


Fate's Gift

by fencingfox



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Assassination Attempt(s), F/M, Fictober 2020, Holodecks/Holosuites, Hugtober 2020, Inktober 2020, Time Travel, Uneasy Allies, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:42:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 34,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26767468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fencingfox/pseuds/fencingfox
Summary: When Ducane fromRelativityreturns toVoyager, Tom Paris and B'Elanna Torres make a trip 30 years into the past to prevent the Khitomer Massacre of 2346.
Relationships: Miral Torres/John Torres, Tom Paris/B'Elanna Torres
Comments: 36
Kudos: 20





	1. Let's Hang Together Sometime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: friendly, waking up restrained, shackled

Tom scooted farther from the wall, calling in a harsh whisper, which scratched his throat, “B’Elanna.” A little farther down and he gave her leg a booted nudge. “Wake up. Shit.” His shoulders burned from the effort of holding his torso up. The shackles around his wrists limited him to keeping his hands only a few inches apart. What was he thinking agreeing to help program? With a metallic thump, he let himself fall backwards and rolled to his stomach, grateful he could manage that much. Without the pressure on his shoulders, he could almost smile. He did not. If he dared, the copper dust he displaced would irritate his mouth.

From the new angle and the narrow sunset shaft of light striking across B’Elanna from the high window, he could see her chest rise and fall. Relieved, he moved himself closer to B’Elanna by digging his boots and knees into the earth and pushing. Rolling again to his back, he sat straight-legged against the wall. He looked over to his partner. A small gash grazed her hairline, from a stray blade most definitely. It apparently healed since then; the blood looked crusty and dark. Tom ignored it, looking for anything worse. He knew intellectually that nothing worse happened, but training conditioned him to check anyway. He sighed as he put his head against the wall. He never found it easy to wait patiently.

* * *

B’Elanna woke up to a dry mouth, a distracting headache, and an extraordinary warmth against her side. She shifted from the extra warmth first; the room felt warm enough. Blinking open her eyes against the dried residue (she longed to wipe them clean), she found the source of the warmth: Tom leaning against her, apparently asleep. She wedged her shoulder into him. He mumbled something incoherent before opening his eyes and yawning.

“Sleep well?” She quipped. She frowned as the motion of her own jaw sent the headache into a migraine.

“Just as well as you,” he replied as he attempted to stretch without tipping them both over. “That hurt?”

“No.”

“Oh really?” And he stopped whispering, “You don’t mind–.”

“It hurts,” she hissed, “knowing that doesn’t help anyone.” She heard flat footsteps down the dirt hallway beyond their cell.

“Do you want to stop for now?”

“No. That’s why I said it didn’t hurt.” She grew more accustomed to the throbbing in her skull the more she talked. She took it as a good sign. “I do want to get out of these,” she accentuated with a strained shake of her arms. Hers chained her to the wall. She saw no chain on his. She thought it unfair, though it gave her something new to wonder: had he edited the program or did she have that much bad luck. Still, they connected only to a dirt wall. She could pull herself free with some leverage. As the thought arose, she bent her legs under herself. Pausing, she decided it would be better to face the wall than to pull with her joints and body mass. Carefully so as not to tip over, she stepped over her wrists, getting dust on her hands in the process. Once her hands were in front of her, she turned to the wall, grabbed the chain with both hands, and pulled until, not the wall, but the chain gave out. She stumbled back in surprise.

“We’re on Romulus remember.” He, too, held his shackled hands in front of him now. His fingers inspected the broken chain. “Metal’s pretty rare. It’s aluminum, maybe aluminum and silicon mixed.” He dropped the chain. “Huh. Think you can break your shackles like that?”

She tried, but the inside edges were too sharp to put enough pressure on. “No. I might be able to pull yours apart.” The both of them standing, they met halfway. Tom offered her his hands. She took them in one of hers to examine the shackle better. His hands felt less warm than before, but they came a close second.

“This wide middle joint looks breakable,” B’Elanna determined, “but it would probably mean cutting into your wrists some.”

“I have an idea.” He lowered his hands toward his waist. B’Elanna hastily pulled hers away. Tom froze to study her with a sly grin. “Why so shy?”

She gritted her teeth and lowered to a softer whisper, “You know why.”

Tom matched her volume, nodding his head. “I doubt anyone’s watching _that_ closely.”

She scoffed. “You don’t know _Voyager_ ’s rumor mill too well, Paris.”

He shook his head and muttered “Paris,” with an amused tone before continuing at their earlier volume. “Well, _Torres_ , I was just reaching to tuck part of my uniform inside of my shackles.” He demonstrated as he spoke. Seeing the solution now made B’Elanna feel silly, but she took a hold of both of Tom’s hands to twist the metal between them until it gave way with a small snap. The joint broke with sharp edges that Tom inspected briefly. “You think these will make good weapons?” B’Elanna nodded in answer without much thought; she occupied herself with twisting her jacket hems into her shackles so she could twist her hands apart. She nearly uppercut Tom when the joint finally gave out and the chain rattled to the earth. Luckily, he dodged quickly enough.

B’Elanna walked to the heavy door. It differed from the metal she was accustomed to on _Voyager_. Wood doors seemed another aspect of Romulus she surmised. She rose to her toes to try peering through a rectangular hole cut into the door.

“Tom, can you see what’s out there?” His hand on her waist surprised her, but she managed not to jump away. After lowering to her heels, she stepped back to give him space while she rethought her decision to go back to using Tom over Paris. His first name was just the sort of thing to make him bold like that. However, she doubted him compromising their mission by getting on her bad side even if it was only a simulation for now.

“I see lights, dirt, and… more dirt.” He turned his head in the other direction and quickly ducked away, mouthing “guard” to B’Elanna. B’Elanna backed herself to the wall.

* * *

The Captain, Tuvok, and Ducane observed the pair on the holodeck as they regained their bearings since capture. Ducane occupied himself with the temporal computations necessary to predict smartly the past events on Romulus as Tom and B’Elanna’s presence affected them.

“Their incursion factor is the lowest out of every pair so far: point zero one three six,” Ducane observed. He looked up in time to see the look Captain Janeway threw his way at the familiar three six tacked to the end of his factor. She remembered how he deemed a point zero zero three six better than expected when last she encountered Ducane and _Relativity_. “I want to continue the simulation a while longer before making a final decision,” he turned to his calculation again, “but they seem promising.”

“They are among my best,” Janeway intoned. It felt unnecessary to mention what ire to fall Ducane’s way should Tom or B’Elanna die or sustain injury. Running the simulation with safeties would introduce additional variables, making it impossible for Ducane to compute his incursion factor – at least as far as his word goes. She believed him, but that didn’t mean she liked it any more.

“Captain, two lives lost to prevent 4,000 lives lost appears desirable,” Tuvok noted.

She waved his comment off. “Ducane, exactly why do you need _Voyager_ ’s help to prevent the Khitomer Massacre? What happened to _Voyager_ should steer clear of time travel?” Ducane greeted her with a caustic look. From the corner of her eye, she saw Tuvok’s ear swivel slightly toward her. Ducane seemed to catch a similar motion too.

“Captain, let’s speak in private.”

“We can speak in front of Tuvok.” Before he could request again, she added, “My ship; my command. Starfleet has long accepted that position. Don’t tell me they stopped in the 31st century.”

“They did not. We have reason to believe a temporal interference caused the Khitomer Massacre.”

“Sending my people to prevent it wouldn’t be temporal interference? How do we know we aren’t dealing with a Pogo Paradox?”

Ducane, obviously uncomfortable with having to discuss his reasons in front of Tuvok, explained. “The interference is more anomalous in nature than a Pogo Paradox predicts.”

“Say I grant you that. Why change things now? Why must you have _Voyager_ ’s help?”

“In my timeline, we have only recently detected the interference.”

“Yes, you mentioned that before.”

“ _Voyager_ maintains a unique position. Your location beyond the Alpha quadrant grants us greater leniency in implementing meaningful changes. Perhaps in time a future temporal vessel will need to undo the changes we caused by relying on you and your crew. However, to the best of my knowledge, _Voyager_ remains the most likely solution for preventing the Khitomer Massacre.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise that neither Tom nor B'Elanna will die. I'll definitely make them work for it though!
> 
> That's right! I'm back. While I have plans to finish Summer's Last Stand (with a title like that how could I not!) I'm not feeling the August prompts... Fictober is so much more fun. I'll be pulling from whumptober and inktober/hugtober this year.
> 
> ~~Also I have no idea what I want to title this, so if you have any ideas, let me know!~~


	2. In the Hands of The Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tuvok continues to monitor B'Elanna's and Tom's progress while all of _Voyager_ want to know: what will happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: in end notes (spoilers for the chapter though.)

“Thank you, Ducane,” the Captain said. It seemed a lot to take in. While she felt secure in her knowledge of temporal physics, it never ceased to give her a headache. “Tuvok, how are our percentages looking?”

“B'Elanna has an 87 to 97 percent chance of being rendered unconscious in any method of escape available to them, Captain.” Tuvok visually scanned the next screen which output his bookmarked scenarios color coded to his preference with numerical indications. When one needed data rapidly, there never seemed a better substitute than computing. “Her death likelihood will rise to six percent should that happen. Tom's death likelihood will remain at ten percent.”

“Thank you, Tuvok. Ducane. we'll let them continue. If either percentage reaches twenty percent, we'll remove them. I refuse to lose them on the holodeck, understood?”

“Understood,” Ducane replied.  
  
“I have to relieve Commander Chakotay. I want to be notified if percentages reach fifteen percent.”  
  
“I will notify you, Captain,” Tuvok replied without removing his focus from the consoles.  
  
Kathryn patted her friend's shoulder in acknowledgment before she left the Holodeck lab. Already the day dragged on. She found herself annoyed with Ducane's cavalier treatment of her crew by putting pair after pair through his simulation. She knew Tom helped him add the final touches, but she could hardly blame him; she'd requested his presence, fully knowing that he was, with Tuvok, one of the most accomplished holoprogrammers on _Voyager_.  
  
By memory, she found her way to the turbolift and used the time between decks to mentally list all the pairs Ducane attempted: Seven and Samantha who succeeded but with an apparently laughable incursion factor; Harry and Vorik, then Vorik and Tuvok, neither of which got close; Chakotay and Tabor in which Tabor initiated a nuclear meltdown purposefully.  
  
The turbolift opened and halted her recount. Chakotay acknowledged her with a nod from his chair. She circled the bridge to view the monitors and the conn before taking her seat.  
  
“How are Tom and B'Elanna doing?”  
  
“Better than you and Tabor.”  
  
He chuckled. “That man is dedicated to a fault. What else?” Kathryn felt the recognizable weight of a listening room. She wasn't entirely above a good _story_ , especially since finding herself in the Delta Quadrant. However, she wasn't keen on telling it herself when it involved crew she regarded highly.  
  
“The Romulans captured them when they tried sabotaging their vessels.”  
  
“Then what happened?”  
  
“Then the First Officer of _Voyager_ went off-duty,” she countered with authority and enough volume that the room suddenly filled with sounds of busywork.  
  
“I am off-duty.”

“You'll have to wait for the report like everyone else,” she explained in her best finality tone.  
  
Chakotay raised both hands in defeat, let them fall, and then stood. “Alright, I won't ask.” She watched him leave before opening his report on the console between them.

* * *

Tom heard his pulse in his ears. Adrenaline marched it faster and louder than it ought to be. He took a breath and waited for the shadows which would indicate the two guards passing. B'Elanna seemed on edge, too. Looking at her, he saw a vein in her neck pulse. He tried to remind himself that this was a holoprogram. Of course, he also knew it supported no safeties and it could malfunction or the Captain could fail to pull them out in time.  
  
The soft glow reaching into their cell faded. Tom held his breath. The shadows shifted past and their cell glowed dimly red once again. He waited another moment before relaxing his posture. When he did, he crept up to the hole in the door to look out again. The guards' backs faced him from the other end of the corridor as they walked away. He couldn't see where they turned from his angle, not unless he stuck his neck out the hole. Trying that sounded like a bad idea. After checking to the left one last time, he stepped away, surprised to not see B'Elanna next to him. He understood she felt wary of rumors but to completely avoid standing next to him –  
  
“I don't think we can dig out,” B'Elanna's voice drew Tom's gaze. She knelt under the exterior window, apparently using her shackle edges to try scraping through the wall. She previously scratched at the window ledge and the floor judging by the uneven spaces. She stood to feel the window sill with one hand. “I can't reach to the outside either.”  
  
He saw her fingertips on the sill and the greenery outside from his angle. “The edge looks like two of your hand lengths total.”

As a pilot, Tom had plenty of experience flying through tight spaces. Even with a spaceship, flying untouched through a narrow space meant life or death on occasion. He, therefore, found it easy to see how B'Elanna could fit through the window if she put herself diagonally through the opening. He also knew he wouldn't fit, given his memory of how she fit against him.

Dismissing the window plan for now, he turned back to inspect the door handle. It felt heavy and looked old-fashioned, but the door wouldn't budge when he pressed into it.

“Need help?”

Tom stepped away, eyeballing the door. Even if B'Elanna had to break both their shackles, he wasn't completely incapable. “I think it's blocked.” Deciding it worth the risk, Tom poked his head through the window to look down quickly. Frustrated, he leaned against the door with his arms crossed when he finished. “There's a thick block of wood across the door frame.”

“How thick?”

He shook his head. “I don't think you and I can break the door and the wood bar.” He nodded at the window near B'Elanna. “I think you can fit through that though.”

B'Elanna turned to face the window. Tom watched as she centered herself with the window and reached straight up. As he guessed, her shoulders barely surpassed the horizontal length, and as his gaze dropped, her hips by a bit more. Nevertheless, she would fit at a diagonal.

“Alright,” B'Elanna dropped her arms. Tom brought his gaze level with the back of her head mere milliseconds before she turned around. “What about you?”

“Did you get anywhere with the shackle as a shovel?”

She shook her head. “No.”

Tom pulled himself from the door and stepped toward her, “show me.” He and B'Elanna knelt in front of the scratched dirt at the base of the cell. B'Elanna wrapped some of her unzipped jacket into her right shackle before digging at the dirt.

She explained as she worked, “The shackle is too narrow to get a hold of and using my wrist is horrible; I can't get any leverage.” She demonstrated another few scratches before stopping.

Tom held her hand to look at the metal around her wrist. There didn't seem to be even enough space to pinch and bend the metal to fatigue it into breaking. He sat back to look around the cell again, releasing her hand. She gave her hand back to him as she mimicked his position against the wall. He offered her a smile before giving the cell a once over.

“Oh!” Spotting the chain near his feet, Tom didn't bother standing and simply folded his legs crisscrossed to lean past them for the chain. B'Elanna snorted at him. “What?”

“Leave it to the ex-con to find a way out of prison.”

Tom pulled the chain into his lap, as he mocked offense, “Hey, I never tried to escape prison.”

“Yet, you're the one with all the ideas.”

“You figured out how to break the shackles,” he pointed out.

“That had nothing to do with prison time.”

They worked silently. First, Tom demonstrated how to pry a few rings off and how to fasten them together into a large scoop by fanning them flat like a hand of cards and using his jacket to safely twist one end together. The result looked like a clawed clam shell. The smooth curve of it fit well in his hand. They made seven scoops between the two of them.

“Hopefully that's enough of them,” Tom stated.

“Once they all bend the wrong way from digging we can bend them back,” B'Elanna pointed out.

“Look at you with the ideas! You'll be an ex-con in no time,” he smiled his teasing smile and received a punch in the arm for it.

“Boost me up, Hotshot. I'll make the window larger.” Tom stood. Before letting B'Elanna climb on his shoulders, he grabbed the scoops and tucked them in his pants waist where he could grab easier later. He knelt in front of B'Elanna with his back to her and his hands above his head, ready to hold her.

“Hop on.”

She grabbed one hand, stepped on his thigh to make herself taller, and swung one leg onto his shoulder. After switching hands, she swung the other leg up as well. He gave her a moment to get situated before rising to his full height.

“Oh, I can touch the top.”

Tom almost lost his grip on her because he simultaneously needed to laugh and to not laugh too loudly at the comment. He felt her laughing above her, and though he couldn't see, he knew fairly certainly that she had a hand on the dirt ceiling. When he regained control of his breathing, he let go of her right thigh to retrieve a scoop and hand it up to her. Once she took it, he grabbed her thigh again and stepped closer to the window.

* * *

His legs started to ache fifteen minutes ago and he never anticipated getting covered in dirt from B'Elanna's digging. She brushed the dirt from his hair as had long since become her signal for a new scoop, or rather, a freshly re-shaped scoop. He traded the one in her hand for the one in his. She gave him a dirt-free moment to re-shape the scoop.

“Almost done?”

“I think this one will do it,” she said as he felt her weight shift on his shoulders.

He heard a creaking. Then voices.

“B'Elanna, go.”

“I'm not done.”

“Go _now_.”

She pulled herself out to look at Tom. With her head clear of the dirt wall, she heard the thump of something heavy outside the door: wood on dirt. Tom helped her to crouch on his shoulders and the window ledge before she put herself through the window feet first.

She held herself at the opening. “Let me help you through.”

“There's no time,” he hissed over the beating of his heart. “Go!” He reached up to squeeze her hand. She pressed herself forward to move for a kiss. He met her halfway, already feeling an ache to bring her back to him. Tom ended the kiss when he heard a key. “Go,” he whispered without looking at her.

“I'll come back tonight.”

Tom nodded and looked up in time to see her slip out of view. He thought he heard her pat the wall on the other side.

“Prisoner!” Drew his attention from the wrong direction. Rather than the door, the voice, muffled by the wall between them, alarmed him.

He slapped the wall with both hands and masked the sounds of the door opening with his shout to B'Elanna, “Run!”

A Romulan pulled Tom from the wall, pinning his arms well behind his back. He heard B'Elanna's startled shout, a pained cry, and then silence.

“B'Elanna!” The holodeck malfunctioned all the time. He refused to think what that might mean for B'Elanna as a pair of Romulans forced him out of the room. One threw a bag over his head. The bag scratched his nose and smelled awful. He dared not call for help. If the holodeck indeed had malfunctioned, it would do more harm than good. He only hoped someone would pull them out of this mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: apathetic, pick who dies, kidnapped


	3. My Way or the Highway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Romulans try interrogating B'Elanna and Tom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: grief, manhandled, forced to their knees, held at gunpoint

Since dropping to the dirt outside their cell, B'Elanna found the red-brown wall offensive. Tom stood on the other side of that wall where he'd have to face whatever the guards came to see him for – or what they intended to see _them_ for. She hated the thought of him being alone even as she knew he could handle himself. B'Elanna patted the wall as encouragement since she figured that had a better chance of being heard without her giving away her position.

As she turned, she heard an unfamiliar voice shout, “Prisoner!” then Tom's exasperated cry for her to run. She took off in the first direction she could, thinking that she should have just said something to Tom. Barely three strides away, she felt a jolt from a disrupter. She fell to her knees with a shout before collapsing entirely. She couldn't move more than twitch. Even though the guard only stunned her, they must have had the disrupter set fairly high; or else it had been so long since she'd been stunned.

Booted footsteps crunched on the dirt-gravel earth. B'Elanna's neck refused to cooperate so she could only see the boots approaching her. She heard another pair at her back, and felt goosebumps prickle under her collar. B'Elanna never expected the second stun to her spine.

* * *

B'Elanna never knew she could hurt this badly. She breathed deeply in and out to distract herself from the discomfort while taking catalog of her injuries: nothing broken, only the lingering ache of the stuns and the beginning of a rope burn where one bound her forearms behind her. She opened her eyes to survey her surroundings. The cell looked almost identical to the one from earlier. The window, of course, showed no damage.

“You're awake.” She recognized the voice as the same who shouted at her when she tried escaping. She didn't see the speaker. Without warning, her chair leaned back dangerously. A female Romulan leaned in front of her face while her partner, most likely, held her chair. She pressed a disrupter into her belly, but B'Elanna refused to show shock. If her ankles weren't tied to the chair legs, she'd kick the offending Romulan.

“If we're stating the obvious now: you're ugly,” she remarked.

She sneered and pushed on her stomach harder. “I'd watch your tone if I were you. This isn't a toy.”

“She can't answer questions if she's dead, Sienae.” The voice sounded male.

“I know that, Lhaes,” Sienae barked.

Lhaes shoved B'Elanna's chair forward as Sienae stepped back. She thought for a moment that they might fight each other rather than pay mind to her. Instead they swapped places. Lhaes stared her down while Sienae lurked behind her.

“Who sent you here?” Sienae asked. B'Elanna felt like her disrupter would be trained on her back. She hated the very idea.

“I did,” B'Elanna answered.

“You?” Sienae laughed. “I don't think so.” She shoved her chair sideways. B'Elanna drew a sharp breath as she landed on her arm and heard the snap. Her vision went white for a moment too long. She shut her eyes, opened them again, stared down Lhaes. “Now, I'll ask again. Who sent you?” Sienae placed her boot on the side of B'Elanna's chair, adding pressure gradually. Her upper arm felt white hot.

“Think hurting me will make me tell you more?” she forced out. “I'd rather die.” She felt close to her breaking point. She reminded herself that one way or another this would end soon. She doubted death awaited her; the Captain wouldn't let it get so far.

The pressure on her side and ultimately her arm increased. Lhaes circled the room, disappearing behind her. She heard a sick snap. The pressure on her side disappeared. A thump she guessed to be Sienae's body sounded behind her. Lhaes brought her chair up and inspected her arm.

“It's broken. I'll fix it. Hold still.”

“What was that?” She had so many questions.

“You're from Aktuh's group, right?” Lhaes, questioned impassively. He pointed an osteogenerator at her arm.

“Who is Aktuh?”

“No then. Well you're Klingon; they'll take you.”

“What is Aktuh's group doing? Why are you helping me?”

Lhaes sighed. “We shouldn't fight an ally. I don't know why we are.”

“Aktuh is helping stop a-” B'Elanna caught herself in time. “fight?” Lhaes nodded. Her arm felt much better already. “And you're helping Aktuh?” Lhaes nodded again. He turned off the osteogenerator and started to untie her arms.

“He's in the caves to the north.” Lhaes finished untying her arms.

B'Elanna quickly untied her ankles. “There was a man I was captured with. Where would he be?”

“In a cell underground.”

She couldn't shake the feeling his hospitality might be a trap. Still, when she stood, Sienae lay on the ground behind her with her neck at an impossible angle and her eyes shocked open. She chose to believe Lhaes. “Thank you.”

“Take her disrupter,” Lhaes pried it out of Sienae's hand to give to B'Elanna. “Good luck.”

* * *

They had to drag him. He felt cold and knew it wasn't just from the changing temperature as they made him take stairs down to somewhere. In his concern over B'Elanna he forgot to track their movement and forced himself to do so now. Ten more steps down, two lefts, one right. The sound of a heavy door. His legs threatened to give out under him. He wanted more than anything to stop. He decided he'd try comming the hololab when first left alone.

The guards tied him to a chair. One yanked the bag from his head and blinding light forced him to blink rapidly.

“Who sent you?” A disembodied gruff voice asked.

Tom remained quiet. The sooner they left him alone, the better.

His chair wobbled as he was shoved. “Talk.”

Tom ignored the hostility. Another shove sent his chair backwards. He hit his head on the ground. Its cold made it harder. He thought he felt blood. Before he had time to wonder how bad he was, a boot pressed on his fingers where they curled over the chair's arms. Tom miraculously held his tongue.

“Think about it, because I'm breaking these next.”

Although Tom couldn't see anything in the room since it was devastatingly bright, he could hear the sound of a door closing and being blocked. He closed his eyes, found that made his head hurt worse, and opened them again to stare at the light-bleached ceiling.

“Paris to Hololab.” If the computer was still working and they were still being monitored, he shouldn't need his commbadge for a call to the hololab. All he had to do was talk; whoever was watching should hear him. “Where's B'Elanna?” Silence. “Is B'Elanna okay?” Fear mounted in his chest. Not only was he alone. He was _alone_ it seemed.

Tom continued to call into the empty room, growing more desperate. He tested his restraints between pleas for information and found them too tight to wiggle free from. He felt groggy now too.


	4. Running Out of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> B'Elanna sets out to rescue Tom. Meanwhile, Tom's mounting injuries aren't helping anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: warm, caged
> 
> Here's a brief timeline to help contextualize everything so far:  
> 2344 Tom is born  
> 2346 Khitomer Massacre  
> 2346 B'Elanna is born*  
> 2350 Harry is born*  
> 2362 Tom starts at Academy  
> 2364 B'Elanna starts at Academy  
> 2366 Tom graduates the Academy and stations with the USS Exeter  
> 2366 B'Elanna drops out of Academy and joins the Maquis  
> 2367 Harry enters at Academy  
> 2368 Tom is marched out of Starfleet following his coverup at Caldik Prime  
> 2370 Tom joins the Maquis  
> 2370 Tom is incarcerated following his capture**  
> 2371 Voyager lost 
> 
> *Voyager press release states B'Elanna is 25 and Harry is 21 when the series starts.  
> **In Non Sequitur, we learn that Tom's sentence should be 18 months and in Caretaker, Captain Janeway promises to put a good word in after their presumed short mission.

Tuvok considered himself a neutral observer in most situations. He could block out discomfort as well as any trained Vulcan. It was however, unnerving to witness Ensign Paris’s desperation. He could not answer per the guidelines of this kind of simulation. In the real version, neither officer would be able to ask for help so openly. Without losing focus on the Ensign’s vitals, Tuvok briefly investigated the discomfort he felt in order to address it swiftly. He found he understood Ensign Paris’s desire to know Lieutenant Torres’s status. It mirrored his quiet desire to know if his family were well.

Tuvok allowed the understanding to cleanse the discomfort. Once again, he fully focused on his task. Ensign Paris’s likelihood of dying increased due to the man’s refusal to speak. It fluctuated a few tenths of a percent around twelve. Lieutenant Torres’s likelihood of dying dropped to three percent as soon as she accepted the disrupter from Lhaes. It looked good for the both of them and their mission.

* * *

Tom forced his eyes open for about the tenth time. He felt exhausted and knew it was not a good sign with a head wound. Remarkably, his stomach churned as though it were too empty. He groaned in the empty room before making another desperate call to the hololab.

Nothing. No one.

Being alone no longer interested him, especially to die alone. Since B’Elanna’s confession while waiting for their oxygen to run out, he believed that if he died, she would be by his side. It felt fateful in a way that he could not describe.

Feeling a surge in wanting to find B’Elanna, he tested his restraints again. When they felt even less moveable than before he reminded himself, dejectedly, that this was no Captain Proton. It hurt to realize.

He let his mind wander to images of B’Elanna, half-remembered due to his grogginess. It frustrated him, but it was better than nothing and when he tried extra hard, he could kind of move the fuzzy gaps around the memories so he could remember more of her face.

* * *

B’Elanna wandered the outpost halls with no idea where to go first. She knew their original cell was above ground on the first level. She knew Lhaes said that Tom would be in an underground location. She figured the two would be nearby; Tom would not have been easy to move if he thought she was hurt.

She remembered only pieces of her capture: pain and someone screaming. B’Elanna understood that the scream most likely was her own. After that, she remembered vague moments where she had been half-aware of herself. They dragged her towards the sun; she remembered the sunset in her eyes.

First, she needed to get outside. The dingy halls reminded her of a feeling: confusion, loneliness. As if triggered to do so, her mind dove into a box she normally liked to keep locked up tight. It did not help that all the dirt reminded her of Kessik IV. How would her life be different if the Khitomer Massacre never happened? She knew at least that her father and mother got together for a reason. Did the combination of a new baby and a massive massacre put them at odds? It seemed more than possible; her father was in Starfleet supporting the very alliance that caught Klingons at Khitomer off-guard. Now faced with an opportunity to set things right, it proved difficult for B’Elanna to think of anything else.

She hid in a shadowy doorframe when she heard footsteps down the hall, thoughts of the past forgotten for now.

“He wouldn’t say anything, but he’s been there for a while now.”

“He’ll talk if he hasn’t bled out yet,” a laugh punctuated this comment. B’Elanna felt an urge to come out of hiding shooting, but knew she had to be smart.

“Humans,” the first speaker scoffed, “it’s remarkable how easy they die.” The pair of guards passed her hiding location. B’Elanna waited and watched where they went. After they took a left turn, she caught up, running lightly on her feet with her disrupter drawn and keeping an ear out for anything suspicious. She slowed to a creep when within a few meters of the turn. Rounding the corner carefully, she saw the pair at the end of the hall disappearing into a doorway. B’Elanna checked once more for anyone before following along the wall to the door. Stairs led down from the doorway and B’Elanna felt a thrill of success when she spotted them.

The stairs looked narrow and the guards were already in front of her. She would not be able to sneak past them. Checking the charge on her disrupter, she decided she had enough to handle the two guards and maybe even set up a blockade after escaping with Tom. If the guards called for help, then they would be in trouble. If Tom could not walk, they would not get out. She wished she asked Lhaes for his osteogenerator just in case Tom received a similar treatment as her. Although her arm was warm from the break and regeneration, it was more than usable. That meant a lot. She tried not to think about the alternative or about how to proceed if Tom was gravely injured.

Taking a breath, B’Elanna steadied herself enough to begin her decent down the stairs.

* * *

Tom’s head ached now; he would never fall asleep no matter how groggy he felt. He tried to count it as a positive development despite the pain. Upon hearing someone at the door, Tom felt a strong sense of vulnerability. He could not move from where he was. He could not see the door. He truly had no idea how to answer the Romulan’s questions about who sent him. If this were the real deal, he could not very well tell them he and B’Elanna were time travelers with a mission to prevent a massacre. Even mentioning the massacre could set it off if it was not already a plan in motion.

Tom hated time travel.

The key rattled in the doorway and a moment later, Tom heard the door’s hinges creak. The sound of two heavy pairs of boots set Tom’s eyes to looking around the room for any hint of his guests.

“So-” He cleared his throat which had gone dry from laying this way, “Sorry, I’d offer you a seat but I have the only one here.”

“Shut up,” his interrogator from before replied. Tom’s vision swam when someone lifted his chair suddenly upright. “Remember my deal?” The Romulan put his boot on the knuckles of his left hand. He braced himself for pain even as he had no idea what it would feel like. He looked in the Romulan’s face, refusing to show concern for his fingers. It might just be the thing to keep them intact.

“I remember.”

“Well,” the pressure on his fingers increased, “who sent you?”

“No one.”

“Wrong answer,” the Romulan stated, but in a tone which told Tom that he wanted badly to break his fingers. It felt like sharp shards had suddenly erupted from Tom's fingers. He screamed at the shock, pain, and betrayal. Why did he have to be here still? Tom did not register the rapid _phew-phew_ of a weapon, until suddenly he felt no boot on his fingers. His hand throbbed relentlessly. Next, the light went out with a defeated _buzz_. He recognized her hand before his eyes fully adjusted.

“B’Elanna?” Mixed relief and excitement made his voice waver. He saw enough now to see the shape of her hair. “C’mere.”

“I’m untying you,” she replied. True enough, he felt her loosen the knots on his right wrist.

“I want a kiss,” he answered. Just after she finished untying his right wrist, he added quickly as if it were one word, “He-broke-something-in-my-left-hand.” She hesitated over the knots of his left hand.

B’Elanna kissed him gingerly, lingering close to his face as she spoke, “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t break it,” he whispered, content to breathe the scent of her hair forever. He watched and tried breathing calmly as she carefully untied his left wrist. The breathing helped when the natural friction of the rope jerked his hand slightly. B’Elanna knelt to untie his ankles next while he inspected his hand with the calm detachment of a nurse. Only his pinky and ring finger sustained fractures. It meant he would have no grip to speak of until they healed, but at least it was not an injury over a complicated joint like his wrist.

“How is it?”

“I need a splint, but it’s only two fingers.”

“I can break a piece from the chair maybe,” B’Elanna suggested.

“Yeah, that should work. I need one that's about 8 centimeters long and 3 wide.” Tom stood slowly as he cradled his injury to his chest. His vision fogged, but not for long. By the time B’Elanna handed him a piece of wood, it cleared. She helped him wrap his fingers with a slip of her torn uniform as he surveyed the downed Romulans.

“Did you kill them?”

“Stunned them. I used the same disrupter that knocked me unconscious.”

“How did you get that?”

“Lhaes, one of my Romulan interrogators, helped me escape. He killed his partner who had the disrupter.” B’Elanna finished as she tucked the slip of uniform under itself. “How’s that?”

Tom turned his wrist and tested that he would not accidentally flex out of the splint. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” He kissed her again.

B’Elanna smiled when they parted, “you’re welcome.” She retrieved her disrupter from the floor by his chair. As she stood, one of the Romulans groaned, drawing both of their attention and forcing the smile from B’Elanna’s face. “We should go now.”

“Agreed. Any idea where to go next?”

“Lhaes said that a Klingon named Aktuh runs a group out of the northern caves,” she answered as she began for the exit. Tom followed close behind, unwilling to lose sight of her ever again.


	5. Where Do You Think You're Going?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> B'Elanna and Tom find safety with Aktuh's group, but another threat lingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: entwined, failed escape, rescue
> 
> Looks like I decided on a title! Inspired by Dante Alighieri's _Inferno_ quote:  
> “Do not be afraid; our fate  
> Cannot be taken from us; it is a gift.”
> 
> Edit:  
> Changed Aktuh to 'aqtuH and K'tal to Qe'tal since this chapter is from their POV.

“'aqtuH,” his second approached him briskly as he spoke with a serious expression. While normally, he preferred not to be disturbed when reviewing intelligence, he trusted Qe'tal's judgement. They served nearly a decade together; he alone could interrupt him within the artificially bright cave that served as their central location. “A human male and a … Klingon female were spotted leaving the Romulan base wearing Starfleet uniforms.” This – this was worth being bothered.

“Leaving? How did they arrive?” 'aqtuH took the offered report hastily and skimmed it for details. Nothing stood out to him beyond the description for the female. He understood Qe'tal's hesitation.

“We found no other ship nearby.”

Puzzled, but unfazed, 'aqtuH asked, “teleport?”

“No other explanation,” Qe'tal gave immediately.

Satisfied, 'aqtuH returned the report to Qe'tal with a nod. “Do they have our location?”

“You worry about those chased by _Romulans_?” Qe'tal jeered.

'aqtuH barked a laugh, which prompted Qe'tal to do the same.

“They wander near to us,” Qe'tal answered after the joke passed.

'aqtuH considered his options. He did not need to meet the newcomers, but they could have valuable information if they proved trustworthy. He also could not resist learning what brought them to Romulus. Perhaps they were an ally. “I will meet with them. See what they have to say.”

Qe'tal called on a perimeter watch to locate the pair. Once discovered, Qe'tal and 'aqtuH left the inner most cave to meet them.

The woman struck him as fierce even with the measly ridges, which adorned her forehead. 'aqtuH knew her not to be full-Klingon. Even more revealing than her appearance was her demeanor. She was more anger than control, as if she read a book on what a Klingon warrior could be and only remembered the headings. Yet, 'aqtuH could not tell if it was for his benefit or her own.

The man had a sharp look about him, but lingered closer to the woman than a ready fighter would. Still, humans did not expect a fight everywhere they went. He appeared injured in the left hand. Unlike the woman, he possessed no weapon. The weapon in the woman’s hand at her side appeared Romulan. He appreciated her acquirement of it. Her smattering of headings proved useful.

“You’re 'aqtuH?” The woman asked upon seeing him. He had to give her credit for spotting his authority. She earned his time.

“Yes. Who are you?” He asked.

“B’Elanna Torres,” the woman answered, “and Tom Paris.”

“Why, B’Elanna and Tom, does Starfleet send you to Romulus?” He asked. The pair of them exchanged a searching look. 'aqtuH edged his hand closer to his hip where his favorite blade waited.

“We’re from the year 2376,” Tom spoke. B’Elanna looked angered, but as soon as she turned from Tom, she spotted 'aqtuH's hand at his hip and understanding dawned. “We’re here to prevent a massacre.”

'aqtuH laughed as did several of his group, “If we want to massacre the Romulan dogs, we will do so with smiles.”

“Not Romulans, no.” Tom replied quickly. “The Romulans are supposed to attack a colony on Khitomer. Four thousand die.” A hush fell over his group. A concern formed in his mind.

“Khitomer is a colony, not an outpost,” he replied just as he saw many of his group realize the same thing for themselves.

“'aqtuH, how do we know they tell the truth?” Qe'tal asked.

He turned to his second, “How do we know they do not, Qe'tal?” 'aqtuH relaxed his weapon-ready hand and turned to the pair. “We will talk. Follow.” He and Qe'tal led the way to a secondary cave, intended for more people and with better lighting. In the center, a table from stone rested. He sat beside Qe'tal. B’Elanna and Tom sat across from them. B’Elanna laid her weapon within reach on the table, but obvious about marking it as unnecessary.

“How do you plan to prevent the attack?” 'aqtuH asked. “We are far from Khitomer.”

B’Elanna explained, “We know the attack originated from Romulus. We need to find the Romulan responsible for that attack order.”

“That would probably be Lhaes,” Qe'tal answered. He had more to say but 'aqtuH raised his hand to stop him.

“You know that name, B’Elanna,” he said.

“Lhaes was the name of the Romulan who,” she composed her expression into disgust, “helped me escape interrogation.”

“Are you sure about the name, B’Elanna?” Tom asked, “They stunned you before.”

“I’m sure,” B’Elanna snapped at Tom. She swore in Klingon under her breath, surprising 'aqtuH.

Tom merely shrugged as if used to the behavior. “At least you know what he looks like.”

B’Elanna’s anger melted considerably at that comment as if she were used to relying on his input. They appeared closer than a pair of Starfleet officers with their age and experience would normally be. 'aqtuH thought he and Qe'tal had to be at least 10 years older than the newcomers. Starfleet, he knew, was not fond of the kinds of ritual that brought warriors together. It required the questions of why and how.

She turned to 'aqtuH, “He knew you were in the northern caves and he knew your name. That’s how we learned to look for you.”

“This requires more thought than one evening,” 'aqtuH commented. “You will stay here tonight. Tomorrow, we will make a plan. Qe'tal, show them where to eat and sleep.”

Everybody stood. B’Elanna hesitated to take her disrupter so Tom picked it up for her. Qe'tal led them away while 'aqtuH returned to his intelligence review in a separate cave. He added notes about Lhaes’ involvement in the newcomers’ escape before turning in for the night.

Sleeping quarters arranged around the central walkway of a cave system aided in escape, but did little for privacy. Though many of his group had mates within, 'aqtuH was not entirely prepared to find Tom and B’Elanna sleeping closely with arms entwined and fingers enlaced only a few spaces from his solitary alcove.

* * *

An ominous feeling woke 'aqtuH in the middle of the night. Assuming an ambush, he became immediately alert. Voices drifted in from the mouth of the cave. Now at least a dozen of the cave sleepers appeared alert to the silent alarm of unease. He spotted the newcomers among those alert as he crouched with his favorite blade. He heard whispers from their direction of “disrupter” and “tracker” between swears.

Realizing that Lhaes must have had something to do with B’Elanna acquiring the disrupter, 'aqtuH moved purposely toward the mouth of the cave and the newcomers’ sleeping space. As he passed them, they dropped silent. He gestured to them both to approach.

“Lhaes gave you the disrupter?”

“After killing his partner for it,” B’Elanna replied indignantly.

“Lhaes is ruthless,” he said in equal parts acknowledgment and understanding. 'aqtuH peered outside. Romulans paced around their encampment. They did not seem to know to look in his direction. Yet, the Romulans were moving closer in grid formation. They would not have long. “Wake the others.” Normally he would ask Qe'tal, but Qe'tal kept watch tonight.

While he waited, 'aqtuH saw a body’s silhouette fall silently in Qe'tal's signature ambush. He felt immediate relief. Emboldened, the cave sleepers ventured into the dark to remove the Romulan threat.


	6. Please...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> B'Elanna, Tom, and Aktuh's group confront the Romulan intruders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: hurtful, "get it out", no more
> 
> trigger: (spoiler) see end notes.

Tuvok activated his commbadge, “Tuvok to Captain Janeway _._ ”

“ _Janeway here, go ahead,_ ” came the answering reply.

“Ensign Paris has a death likelihood of 15 percent.”

“ _I’ll be right down. Pull him out if it gets to 20 before I’m there._ ”

“Understood. Tuvok out.”

Ducane scanned the console over Tuvok’s shoulder. He disagreed with the Captain’s 20 percent marker. If they were predicting the weather, a 20 percent chance of rain practically meant zero. He felt the same applied to the holoprogram’s computation of death likelihood. Normally, one left a potential operative in a simulation until death likelihood reached 75 percent. The Captain’s overly cautious demand could cause potentially successful partnerships to end much too early.

* * *

Tom squeezed B’Elanna’s hand before she moved out of reach. It elicited his desired response of her turning to look at him. “Be safe,” he whispered.

She smiled, barely seen in the dark if not for how close they crouched. “You’re worried?” She moved closer; he expected a kiss but instead she whispered into his ear so the others would not overhear, “The Captain will pull us out before either of us are in any real danger.”

He smiled back though he was not entirely sure now. He did not want to tell her about the lack of communication from anybody outside of the program. Burdening her with that knowledge seemed counterintuitive. Instead, he said, “The goal isn’t to get pulled out, right?”

This time she did kiss his cheek, “Right.” As she drew away, she squeezed his hand back before releasing it to take a spare blade offered to her by a Klingon woman he did not know by name. The same woman hesitated to hand him a blade and Tom got the sense she did not like him.

There had been talk a few times already that went curiously quiet when he and B’Elanna drew near. Not that he blamed them. If he had his history right, B’Elanna herself was one of the first fifty or so Klingon-Human mixed people and she was born the same year as the massacre – this year. He did not find it fair that _he_ alone received the sideways looks, but he was not in a position to argue them anytime soon.

Aktuh lead the first group out to the star-kissed field. He and B’Elanna joined the third group out. The moons above Romulus were smaller together than Earth’s moon and offered little light to go by. Mostly they saw by the Romulan complex’s distant floodlights. Tom followed close to B’Elanna, ready to defend her blind spots. She left her disrupter in the cave since they suspected it had a tracker. However, she appeared, to Tom, comfortable with the short blade and he absently wondered if she preferred it to a bat’leth.

The first shuffle near him put a stop to his musing. He circled to face the sound, regretting his own loud footwork. He had time to see the Romulan’s eyes gleefully locate him before K’tal silently stabbed the side of the Romulan’s throat like a striking snake. K'tal lowered the body to the ground with remarkable ease.

K’tal pulled Tom to the cave and accused, “You’ll have them close on us all. Better that you stay.” K’tal turned away, and added “be quiet,” before he left.

Tom huffed. He was hardly a child. He was a damned Starfleet officer. He could handle a Romulan, especially a holographic Romulan. Determined, Tom stepped back out into the night. He saw neither K’tal nor B’Elanna. Not another humanoid stood out to him in the immediate area. Tom edged closer to shapes silhouetted further from him by the distant floodlights while using trees for cover.

A hand grabbed his arm. The brief alarm passed when he realized the hand belonged to B’Elanna. “Where did you go?” She whispered.

“K’tal took me back to the cave.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” he lied.

“Your hand bothering you?”

“I forgot about it really.”

“Good,” B’Elanna said. “I’ll go left. You go right.” She stepped away from him to circle the group. She made no sound. Impressed, he left the safety of his tree.

A shuffling sound behind him made him freeze. Careful not to make the same mistake twice, Tom slowly turned, earning him a good look at the Romulan between two trees. They had not spotted him yet. Tom approached from behind as it covered him from the Romulan’s line of sight with one of the trees. He was taller than the Romulan, which made it easy to swiftly reach around and slit the Romulan’s throat. The body felt heavier than he expected. Although he could have done better at lowering it to the ground, he knew he did well enough.

He heard no movement. Therefore, he had no warning for the knife across his throat.

* * *

“Tuvok, get him out of there,” Captain Janeway ordered. As she watched, Tom’s death likelihood rose sharply, surpassing 80%. She did not understand how the situation escalated so quickly, but she had her suspicions. Hardly any of which she would be able to investigate if Tom Paris died on the holodeck.

“I transported him to Sickbay. Should I remove Lieutenant Torres as well?”

“Yes,” Already heading out the door, Kathryn continued, “I’ll meet her in Transporter Room One and explain to her. She doesn’t know.” By the time Kathryn arrived outside Transporter Room One, B’Elanna was making her way out in a rush. She stopped to acknowledge her.

“Captain, what happened? Is Tom…?”

Kathryn turned heel to lead B’Elanna toward Sickbay. The young woman did not hesitate to match her stride. “Tom was alive when we pulled him from the program.” She could imagine the alarm rising in the woman beside her so she explained quickly. “He had his throat sliced. Tuvok sent him to Sickbay immediately. The Doctor received notification that he was in danger by the same system we used to monitor you. He has a good chance of making it because of that preparation, B’Elanna.”

A string of swears from B’Elanna came as no surprise. When Kathryn recognized an untranslatable Klingon slur for Romulans, she interrupted B’Elanna. “Another Klingon slit his throat, B’Elanna.”

As they entered the turbolift, a heavy silence joined them. Kathryn let the silence linger for B’Elanna to digest the contrary information she had felt obligated to give.

“Another Klingon?” She asked apathetically.

“I have a theory.” She did not wish to share it yet, but learned that often it was helpful for a leader to reassure those she led when worrisome situations developed. However, she forgot to factor in B’Elanna’s innate desire for answers and stubborn determination.

“What theory?”

“I need to think on it more.”

“And while you think about it, Tom will _die_ ,” she accused.

“Lieutenant,” she warned. “I don’t theorize lightly. I need to understand the variables fully.” Their turbolift opened near Sickbay. B’Elanna stormed away without another word. Rattled at the disrespect, Kathryn reminded herself that B’Elanna was not actually a Starfleet officer – neither was Tom for that matter. If anything happened to Tom, then she was ultimately to blame. Remembering these facts prompted Kathryn to ignore B’Elanna’s disrespectful and, frankly, hurtful treatment. She left the turbolift before the doors could close.

The Doctor worked quickly around Tom’s head in the surgical bay without overly rushing himself, even as he worked faster than any human doctor could. B’Elanna watched from outside the force field, a sight that made Kathryn appreciate the Doctor’s growing understanding of human – and Klingon – concern. He likely raised it to prevent any interference. Knowing she wanted to confirm her theory quickly and knowing that Tom’s best chances stood with the Doctor’s undivided attention, Kathryn left Sickbay. She retraced her steps to the hololab.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger: character near to death & suspense surrounding character's well-being. This is the first of several potentially very scary twists I have planned.
> 
> Just want to reiterate: Tom and B'Elanna _will live_ through the end of this story. Additionally, I intend there to be a **happy resolution** for them when we get to that ending.
> 
> Also, chapter 7 will be extra fluffy. I think our heroes deserve it after all they've been through so far.


	7. I've Got You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> B'Elanna and Tom reconnect despite B'Elanna's increasingly conflicting feelings over which kind of happiness to pursue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: hesitant, support

B’Elanna looked at the time again. Nearly half an hour came and went already. She looked back at Tom on the surgical bed from beyond the Doctor’s force field. The Doctor moved carefully around the unconscious Tom. His dermal regenerator hummed softly with the many passes he made over his skin. Tom looked – well – injured. His hands lay limp at his side. The two fingers of his left remained bound by her uniform but without the splint. She should have thought to use something not holographic for the splint. He needed that hand to pilot.

A quiet, reasonable voice told her that engineering held more promise for productive work than staying here to regret her decisions promised her. Yet making the move to leave remained undoable; her feet rooted to the spot. While the Doctor already finished repairing the most urgent damage in the first five minutes, she was wary to request access in case it became just the tipping point for Tom.

Did she really want to risk losing him to keep her parents together? She had no idea what would happen if her parents stayed together longer. Would she be happier? Would she have gone to the Academy in the first place? Would she have graduated? She did not think Tom’s past changed with a change to the events on Khitomer. Perhaps they would meet at the Academy, still. Perhaps she would serve with Captain Janeway. Perhaps, they would met again after all on _Voyager_ and she would spend less time avoiding him.

Of course, it seemed incredibly unlikely she would run into Tom if her parents stayed together. She only left because she was tired of her mother, at the time. So much changed in the past five years. She was not the same person who joined Chakotay’s crew. She certainly was not the same person who ran to the Academy.

The _fwish_ of the force field brought B’Elanna to the present. She unwrapped her arms from her chest, not having noticed when they got there. The Doctor appeared tired, but satisfied. A weight lifted from her chest before he said anything.

“He needs to rest now, but I don’t see why you can’t see him for a moment first.”

“A moment?” She asked, unsure if her voice would waver. When it did not waver at all, she had mixed feelings. Did she care for Tom as much as she thought? Was putting the pieces of her childhood together actually the better option? Feeling a little guilty, she asserted. “I’m staying here until he wakes up.” When the Doctor looked ready to argue with her, she added seriously, “You’ll have to call security to escort me out.”

The Doctor sighed with a shake of his head and left. B’Elanna hesitated to move closer to Tom. The time she spent thinking about her conflicting feelings regarding correcting the Khitomer Massacre taunted her. What kind of person was she to be so selfish? Eventually she moved out of sight of Tom to find a chair to take back to his bedside. She sat in it and held his healed left hand, stroking the back of it with her thumb rhythmically. Now that she sat closely, she saw how new skin etched a line across his throat. She hoped it healed.

B’Elanna reached to smooth back his hair. He felt too cold. Scanning the room, she spotted a closet labeled _blankets_ and stood to retrieve one. Standing by her chair, she opened the blanket, flapped it out, and let it fall over Tom from the chest down. She straightened the blanket around his feet before sitting down and taking his hand again.

* * *

Tom lingered in the dreamlike moment between sleep and alert. He felt comfortably warm and realized when he smiled. The physical movement brought him a step closer to waking because next he realized he was on his back; he rarely slept on his back. However, he felt a weight on his left shoulder that he easily recognized as B’Elanna. Finding himself longing to see her, he finally opened his eyes.

He did not recognize his surroundings at first. It reminded him a bit of when as a child he fell asleep in a shuttle and woke up in his bed. The high ceiling, steady hum, and mattress texture clued him into the fact that he woke up in Sickbay. A moment later, he remembered why he might wake up in Sickbay. Stunned by the Doctor’s work, he reached for his neck with his free hand – B’Elanna indeed fell asleep with her head on his left shoulder – and he felt soft, new skin in a fine line across his throat.

He took time to process, remembering what he thought would be his last moments. He had been alone; too stunned to think to look for who attacked him and nowhere near close to caring. He moved his hand to B’Elanna’s head, tracking the motion with his eyes. He almost left her. For what? Four thousand strangers? What were four thousand strangers compared to the woman he loved?

She hummed acknowledgment as his touch woke her. B’Elanna lifted her head from his chest. He moved his hand to her cheek and smiled softly. He saw by the dim nighttime light that she smiled back.

“Hey,” he said, amazed that his voice still sounded like his own after all the trauma his throat recently suffered.

“Hi,” she replied softly. She leaned closer and rested her hand around the top of his head. He moved his hand to the top of his blanket as she moved in. Her face hovered close enough that Tom could see her eyes dart back and forth between his. “Welcome back.” He felt her thumb sweep across his forehead into his hair.

“How long had I…?” He was not sure how to word it. Had he actually died? Had the Doctor completely prevented that?

She rested her head next to his in her best effort to cuddle while he remained on the bed and she remained on the chair. It placed her mouth close to his ears and her nose just behind his left temple. “You never died.”

He turned his head toward her, only intending to smell her hair but she understood it as a request and she kissed him gently. He tasted tears but didn't know who they belonged to. When she broke away, returning to the nose to temple location, he asked, “How?”

“Tuvok teleported you here as soon as – as soon as you collapsed. The Doctor had a little warning. He was already working on you when the Captain escorted me here.”

“Oh.” No words came to mind so a comfortable silence stretched between them until he thought of something to say. “Thank you for being here when I woke up.”

“Where else would I be?”

He had a smart-aleck answer to the tune of engineering, but rather than say that, he said, “I don’t know.” Feeling that there was more to say he added sincerely, “I love you.”

She kissed the side of his head above his ear and whispered, “I love you, too.”


	8. Where Did Everybody Go?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> B'Elanna and Tom need to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: doubtful, "don't say goodbye", abandoned, isolation  
> (wow all of them yay)

Tom felt around his bed and found himself alone. “B’Elanna?” He did not know what woke him; the Doctor finished healing his neck earlier that day so it likely was not a lingering pain. Checking again, he felt fine. He could not even detect a difference between his left and right hand since his visit in Sickbay. Still, B’Elanna asked to sleep with him tonight. Now, where was she? “Lights fifteen percent.” At his request, the night lighting above his headboard faded while overhead the lights rose to his request. Cool air nipped at his chest and shins as he flipped the blanket off him to get out of bed.

Tom listened but only heard the sound of his own footsteps as he looked. He found B’Elanna sitting at the dining table with an empty wine glass resting on the table. She seemed lost in a difficult thought with her hands cradling her face. She did not notice him walk into the room. When he put his hands on her shoulders, she seemed surprised. Tom kissed the top of her head after she lifted it out of her hands.

“What are you doing up?” He asked gently.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” she replied. She sounded tired and stressed. Tom debated his next move and decided it would be better to stay where he stood for now. Sometimes, he found, she opened up if she did not have to look at a person while she explained.

“I don’t know what woke me.” He then added, “It’s been a long day for us,” and hoped it was enough without being too pushy.

B’Elanna made a sound of agreement. She sighed. “Let me put the glass away and I’ll go back to bed.”

A little disappointed that she did not feel like opening up to him, he tried to hide it. “I got it,” he said.

“Thank you,” she yawned as she stood and faced him. “Good night.”

“Good night,” he replied. He took the still moment to offer her a kiss, which she returned. She gave his hand a squeeze before turning for his bedroom. Tom leaned into the back of the chair for a moment to stare at the glass. What had been on her mind? He picked up the glass after shaking off the urge to stare and walked it to the replicator to be recycled. He pushed her chair back under the table on his way to his bedroom.

B’Elanna already lay on the bed under covers. She was on her side how she normally slept but Tom felt that her position seemed too tight somehow, as if she wanted to keep herself isolated. Worry ate at him. Had getting hurt ruined her image of him? He dearly hoped not. Tom crossed the room to lay on his side on his back since he was not sure if she would want him to hold her. That was how they fell asleep earlier, but B’Elanna had also felt the need to get up.

His worries turned out short-lived thankfully. Once he got comfortable on his back, B’Elanna rolled toward him. He moved his arm under her neck to wrap down her back while she rested one of hers between them and the other across his chest under the blanket.

“Lights zero percent,” he asked of the room. The headboard lights gradually increased while the room’s lights gradually decreased. He absent-mindedly stroked the part of her back that he could reach. Her breathing slowed and he felt his do the same. Just as he was starting to drift, he heard a noise.

Recognizing the noise as B’Elanna, he tuned in to her voice. “I think we should try the simulation again,” she said.

Practically fully alert, he asked, “Why should we do that?”

“I saw Ducane’s calculations. We’re the closest pair to a decent run so far.”

“How can you be okay with doing that again?” He wanted to add, “after I nearly died,” but he refrained from verbalizing it since it was as good as stated in his question anyway.

“It’s a simulation; you never died,” she answered.

His hand stopped moving along her back. What was she saying? Did she want him to die? That was outrageous, yet still. Where did her desire to return come from? “This time I didn’t die. What about next time? What if it’s you?”

“Then I’ll die,” she answered softly.

“B’Elanna, please.” Had he been wrong about her finally moving past the pain from learning of her Maquis friends’ deaths? She had certainly seemed more like herself lately. “No number of lives are worth losing you for.”

“I don’t know,” she replied.

This was crazy! Tom pressed his lips to the top of her head, trying to form an answer as much as he was trying to read her mind. “Is this what you left bed to think about?”

“Yes, and… I thought about it. And maybe if the massacre hadn’t happened… Maybe my parents would still be together. Maybe I’d be happy.”

He took offence even as he tried very hard not to. “You’re not happy?”

“Yes, no. It’s different. It’s my parents, Tom.” She looked up at him, searching his face. He searched hers. “So many things would have been better for me if they stayed together.”

“My parents never separated and I killed three people,” he argued.

“You’re not being fair.”

“Neither are you,” he said. He could not lay in bed any longer. He took his arm back from B’Elanna and turned to sit on the edge of his bed, facing away from her. “You just said you didn’t know if my _death_ was acceptable to you.” He heard the bed shift, but she did not touch him. “I love you, B’Elanna, but you’re making it difficult for me.”

“I love you, Tom, but I have to know.”

“What happens if it does work in the simulation and we succeed for real?”

“We might still meet each other. We don’t know for sure.”

“B’Elanna, we wouldn’t see each other again. You went to the Academy to run away. I don’t think you’d do it if you had a happy family.”

“We wouldn’t know each other anyway.”

He half wanted someone to witness this to prove that he was not crazy for being upset about what B’Elanna said so far. “ _We_ would be making that decision. I just can’t do that.” He stood up abruptly. “I need some space.”

“I’m sorry; I’ll go.”

“No, it’s fine,” he said even as the truth was very far from fine. Tom rummaged for a shirt and sweats. He would replicate his uniform in the morning. “I’ll stay with Harry.”

“So you can turn him against me?” she accused.

“What?” He asked. “No. It’s just hard to hear what you’re telling me.”

“It’s your quarters,” she got out of bed. “Don’t be ridiculous; I’ll leave. Lights fifty percent.” The room obliged her. He blinked at the light for a moment while he heard her move about the cabin. She only needed to throw on a pair of shoes and grab her commbadge since she had already put her uniform in for cleaning. She left quickly without another word, leaving Tom standing in his boxers with a shirt in his hands.

“What just happened?” Tom asked the empty room. He put the shirt away, lay in bed, and grabbed B’Elanna’s pillow to hold. “Lights zero percent.” As the lights traded, he stared blankly at the pillow. He felt silly not to have B’Elanna near him. By his own reasoning, he had nearly died; shouldn’t he spend as much time with her as possible? It felt especially important to be nearby if she wanted to prevent the Khitomer Massacre.

Yet at the same time, he did not want to put his energy into maintaining their relationship if she wanted to abandon it. He cursed; the pillow smelled like her, his bed felt empty without her. He felt at war with himself. How was he going to sleep now?

* * *

Kathryn first noticed the cold treatment B’Elanna and Tom had for one another. They sat in their usual places for the meeting. Someone who did not know them well might think the two had a bad cup of coffee. She knew better.

Where normally they exchanged secretive glances that they must not think others saw before the meeting began, today the looks were absent. Instead, they stared down at their PADDs, occasionally looking up at the people around them. Tom also looked like he had not slept well if at all. With the added trauma of the day before, Kathryn wondered if her decision not to limit crew relationships finally decided to affect them.

Kathryn took her seat to begin the meeting. All eyes turned to her expectantly, including Ducane’s. “Good morning.” A rumbling of replies greeted her before she continued. “As I’m sure you know: Tom and B’Elanna’s run was not successful.” She wondered how they would react to the callout at a time like this. To their credit, both accepted eye contact from anyone who looked – except each other.

“Ducane has more pairs he’d like to run the simulation with. We’ll keep the same order as planned, but we’ll push it back to tomorrow rather than resuming today. There are matters of safety that need to be addressed before I feel comfortable asking anyone to join the simulation.”

She looked to Tom to address him, “I’d like you to take a look with Tuvok, Tom.”

Tom nodded and made a note on his PADD. At least, that was what it looked like until B’Elanna looked down at hers a moment later and frowned. Kathryn ignored the blatant lack of protocol since the couple had such a difficult time recently. Although she spotted nothing on Tom’s neck, she remembered the sight he struck on the holodeck: collapsed, bleeding, and struggling to breathe. She felt responsible.

“Chakotay will revise the schedule and send it out today. In the meantime, you can inform your subordinates of the change. Now, to another matter of importance. Tom’s and B’Elanna’s run did not fail due to their actions as we witnessed in the past. It was intentional.” She gestured in his direction as he said his name, “Ducane.”

He took her invitation to speak, “The simulation is designed to mimic the events of the past. It is not a perfect recreation, but independent testing on events with incredibly precise details available has shown us that the simulation accurately predicts events even when we remove half of the original details.”

After a pause for her crew to take in the information, he continued, “ _Relativity_ did not know until this last run: the group ran by Aktuh includes at least one traitor. We don’t possess enough details to determine the real life equivalent of the traitor’s identity. However, learning of the traitor’s mere existence remains valuable. A memo will warn future pairs of the danger. We are certain that neither Aktuh nor K’tal are traitors since the simulation chose to have another Klingon attack Ensign Paris.”

“Thank you, Ducane,” Kathryn said as she looked around the room. “Does anyone has anymore to discuss?” She waited. “Tom, B’Elanna – stay with me a moment. Everyone else may go.” She waited for the room to clear before speaking to them. “Is there something I need to know?”

“No, Captain,” B’Elanna replied quickly. She resisted the urge to raise a brow at her response. She possessed no qualifications to be a relationship counselor. She only asked now because there were few options, their change from yesterday seemed dramatic, and they might benefit from counseling after what they went through. She looked at Tom.

“We’re handling it, Captain.” He sounded as tired as he looked. She had doubts about putting him in the pilot seat even if the Doctor assured her earlier that he was ready to work.

“My door is always open,” she said reassuringly. “Tom, are you up to piloting?”

He scratched the back of his head and even glanced at B’Elanna – a habit that reassured her somewhat. “I’m actually exhausted.”

“Don’t worry about it. Get some sleep.” She turned to B’Elanna, but did not have time to ask her question.

“I’m fine for work, Captain,” she said.

Kathryn nodded. “Then you may go now.” She waited for them to leave because she was curious how they would leave when no other people remained as a buffer between them. They stood at the same time. Although B’Elanna sat farther from the door, she was there first. Tom seemed to take his time getting to the door. She looked back at him before walking out. Kathryn caught a timid smile shared between them in that moment before B'Elanna left.


	9. For the Greater Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> B'Elanna and Tom make up...at least, they think they do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: sloppy, "take me instead"

_Now or never_ , Mike Mulchaey thought to himself as he gathered his courage to request time with Lieutenant Torres. He knocked on the open frame of her office door.

She looked up, “Ensign Mulchaey, what do you need?”

“Do you have a moment?” He asked. She looked puzzled but nodded and set down her PADD.

“Sure, come in,” she answered.

“Can I ask you about the simulation? I’m supposed to go tomorrow with Commander Chakotay.”

“Depends on what you want to ask.”

He knew this was a possibility. She seemed defensive. “Everyone heard about how close Ensign Paris came to dying. Plus the information about a traitor in Aktuh’s group… It doesn’t seem worth it to die in a simulation,” he ventured.

She remained silent a long time. “Did you come here for advice?”

“No, not really. I –” He took a second to think of how to use his words without incurring his boss’s anger. “I know saving four thousand lives is important, but I don’t – I’m not invested in doing it. I mean, it’s not like _I_ trained to be a time agent.” Mike held his breath.

“I understand,” Lieutenant Torres answered. “I’ve heard that a few other department heads had requests to not be involved any longer.”

“I’m sorry that I don’t want to help.”

“You’re thinking that because I’m Klingon, I’m going to be offended?”

Mike looked away abruptly, then looked back to answer, “Well, yes.”

Lieutenant Torres shook her head. “If it’s not your fight, then it’s not your fight, Mulchaey. If anyone else is hesitant to ask me about removing their name from the pairs, make sure they know that they can ask me.”

“Yes ma’am. Thank you.” Mike stood to leave, hesitated, and then said, “Do you mind if I ask: did you have family at Khitomer?”

“Family I never knew,” she answered as she picked up her PADD. He forgot that she was younger than he was.

“For what it’s worth, I hope we’re somehow able to help.”

“Me too, Ensign Mulchaey. Thank you,” she said with a smile. “Close the door on your way out; I have some time-sensitive work to finish before lunch.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered feeling good about his accomplishment. He closed the door when he left.

* * *

B’Elanna seriously wondered at the reasoning behind the pairs. Mike Mulchaey and Chakotay? Who thought that up? She looked at the list and saw equally bizarre pairs. The only pair that really made any sense had been her and Tom.

She mentally kicked herself for starting their argument yesterday. Really, her wording was sloppy at best. She wondered if Tom was asleep already. She thought she would apologize to him during lunch. She tapped her commbadge.

“Torres to Chakotay,” she said.

“ _Chakotay here._ ”

“Ensign Mulchaey asked me to remove his name from the simulation pairs.”

“ _He was supposed to go with me tomorrow._ ”

“About that. I’m looking at the pairs now; did Ducane suggest them?”

“ _It was him and a calculation of some kind he made. Why?_ ”

“Have you looked at them?”

“ _Yes?_ _What are you thinking?_ ”

“They just seem odd to me. Have you ever even worked with Mulchaey before?”

“ _A little, not a lot. And looks like not much in the future,_ ” he laughed. A little was more than she expected. Maybe the pairs were not as bad as she thought. If the simulation had something to do with the calculation, it must have better knowledge than she did.

“Think I could go with you instead?”

“ _You sure?_ ”

“I’m fine. And the next person who asks me is getting a fist to the nose,” she joked.

Chakotay laughed, “ _I’ll ask the Captain and let you know later. Is that all?_ ”

“That’s all. Torres out.” She closed the connection and looked at the time. She only had one more report that needed to be finished before lunch. Enough time remained until lunch for her to finish the report and try calling Tom.

“Torres to Paris,” she asked her commbadge.

It took a little longer than she expected Tom to answer, “ _Paris here._ ” He sounded less tired, but still a little cold toward her.

“Want to get lunch with me?”

“ _Oh, sure._ ”

“Why so surprised?” she asked as a smile crept over her features.

“ _I sounded surprised? I hadn’t meant to._ ”

“How did helping Tuvok go?”

“ _I haven’t yet; planned to do that after lunch. I might stay late,_ ” he said. There it was: their routine. She missed it. It surprised her how much she missed it. “ _Want me to get you?_ ”

“We can meet in the mess hall. I only have one report to do before lunch.”

“ _Okay, see you then. Paris out._ ” The commline closed. B’Elanna focused on her report.

* * *

Tom watched B’Elanna spot him. She smiled only for him and he returned the smile.

“You’re not eating?” She asked him.

“I was waiting for you,” he said as he stood up. They took their trays from Neelix without talking to each other more. Tom caught a few people looking at them. When he caught them, they looked away. He had to say, B’Elanna was right about _Voyager_ ’s rumor mill. It even seemed to focus on them more frequently than on anyone else.

B’Elanna was quiet when they sat down to eat. Since she invited him, he wanted her to talk first. Not long after having that thought, she started to apologize.

“I’m sorry for being insensitive,” she said.

Tom pushed some of his food around, thinking. “I didn’t know how much you wanted to stop the massacre.”

Nobody spoke for a few minutes.

“What’s next?” she asked softly. She sounded a little worried about the answer.

He felt torn to some degree, but he was not going to let a possibility scare him away. He spoke quietly, “It’s hard for me to just forget what you said.”

She looked up from her food to him. “I know. I don’t expect you to magically forgive me.”

He nodded. “I – I still love you.”

She smiled but let him continue without interruption.

“I’m not going to leave you. There is always a possibility that no pairs will work. Even if a pair works, you were right: if the past changes, those versions of ourselves would not remember anything from now. Still, I can’t reset the past with you.”

“I understand. I won’t ask you to again.”

“Good, I’m glad.” He breathed with relief. It felt like weeks that their argument ate at him even though it was less than a day. It felt good to be past it. He set down his fork and offered his hand across the table to B’Elanna. She emptied her hands to take his hand in both of hers. The rest of the room melted away when she smiled at him.


	10. They Look So Pretty When They Bleed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom races against time to save B'Elanna amid a red alert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: healing, blood loss, internal bleeding  
> triggers: experiential descriptions of blood loss... _also_ I cried a little writing this; tread carefully

“Stay with me. B’Elanna,” Tom looked concerned. Why did he look concerned? B’Elanna let her head roll back and her eyes close. Her fingers felt odd. Her toes too. Tom patted her face. She opened her eyes to push his hand away – saw blood on her fingers. Blood transferred to his hand. Her eyes closed. She remembered now: she upset him.

* * *

“ _Chakotay to Torres_ ,” came through B’Elanna’s commbadge. She released Tom’s hands to take the call.

“Torres here.”

“ _The Captain’s given permission for you to come with me_ ,” Chakotay replied. “ _We start at oh seven hundred_.” B’Elanna watched Tom’s expression move through confusion and realization before settling on his mask. She did not think going with Chakotay would be an issue, but now she knew better. She should take back her request to go with Chakotay – for Tom’s benefit.

“Oh, thanks.” She took a breath. “I’ll see you then. Torres out.” She expected Tom to say something after she closed the line. Already, she had the reasons lined up in her mind. She will not die in the simulation. She trusts Chakotay. She cannot turn her back on Khitomer. Tom continued to eat silently. She followed his lead. B’Elanna mentioned before how she preferred not to make a scene. Maybe his silence was for her benefit. She felt too guilty to eat.

“I should get back to work.”

“Yeah,” he answered emotionlessly. She took the lack of outright coldness as a positive.

B’Elanna sighed as she stood to take her tray. It felt unfair. When he wanted to rescue the dying water planet, she encouraged him. Where was his support? She needed to think more about it, but maybe they were not right for each other after all. She left the mess hall and left Tom behind.

* * *

Red lights flashed and the _briiiih-briiiih_ of the alarm made her head ache. She stared at the ceiling. Her arm would not respond to her request to block her eyes. She shut them tightly instead.

She heard Chakotay, “The Doctor’s offline.”

A hypospray hissed at her neck and Tom whispered, “Keep fighting.” She felt a little stronger and realized he must have given her adrenaline. She made a few more connections as her brain began cooperating: she sustained a serious injury. Was she paralyzed? She could not move. What if she was paralyzed? Her breathing came fast and hurt her abdomen. Tom swore.

“Chakotay, pull up the clamshell,” Tom said. “It’s the green button.” Then his hands came to the sides of her face, looking at her upside down from her perspective. The harsh alarm softened. “B’Elanna, breathe slowly.” Her eyes darted around her.

She was in Sickbay. The Doctor was offline.

Those thoughts bounced around her head in a frenzy.

“B’Elanna, look at me. _Look_ at me.”

She did as he asked.

“Breathe – like me. See,” Tom said. He began emphasizing his breathing. B’Elanna tried to follow. The clamshell closed above her, blocking her view of the Doctor’s office and the rest of Sickbay.

“You know what you’re doing?” Chakotay asked. Even from this angle, B’Elanna could see the dirty look Tom shot him.

“Just stay out of my way,” Tom stepped back. The alarm picked up volume. “Keep her breathing calmly.” Chakotay came into view, mimicking Tom’s earlier position. The alarm dulled again. She followed Tom’s retreat with her eyes. His forehead creased as he focused on the clamshell, making it give off beeps as he worked.

 _Voyager_ jerked under her. Tom caught himself on the edge of the clamshell. His hand was red. She felt her pulse jump.

“Keep her calm, Chakotay,” Tom admonished. He righted himself.

“B’Elanna, hey,” Chakotay spoke softly, forcing her to listen. She looked at him. “You’re going to be fine. Okay? You’ll keep fighting because you always fight,” he smirked. She tried to return the expression, but did not know if she managed. She felt numb all over. She could not tell her hands apart from her arms.

Tom made a sound of frustration, immediately drawing her attention. “She’s losing blood faster than I can repair her.” He swore repeatedly, frantically moving his hands over the clamshell. Chakotay tried to draw her attention back, but she ignored him, watching Tom’s expressions play out, perhaps for the last time. _Voyager_ jerked again. Tom made eye contact with her.

“Hey,” he said, carrying more than three letters of meaning in his voice.

She managed to move her mouth. On the second try, she got out the reply, “Hi.”

“I’m so sorry,” his voice broke.

She mouthed, “me too.”

Her eyes felt heavy. The adrenaline must have worn off. The alarm died down.

* * *

Tom waited reluctantly as the Doctor worked on B’Elanna. He wanted to be close to her, but knew he would only be in the Doctor’s way. Chakotay sat next to him and sighed. Tom refused to look at him.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Chakotay said, “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care that you’re friends.” Tom deadpanned. “If she dies, I’m throwing you out an airlock.”

“I would deserve that.”

Eventually, Tom could not stand their silence any longer and asked, “What happened?”

“I don’t really know. The Romulans attacked us on sight. Could they remember us?”

“No. Everything resets and I even purged the system manually yesterday…just in case.” Tom answered. He looked at the Doctor and B’Elanna. She was still breathing, but unconscious. For once, he appreciated having a nonliving doctor. The hologram knew what he was doing and never seemed to tire or become frustrated. The Doctor’s skill was worth the trade-off in his social knowledge. He rushed them away so forcefully earlier.

“She’ll make it, Tom. She’s a fighter.”

Tom huffed a ghost of a laugh. “I know she is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edits: changed occurrences of "Lieutenant Paris" to "Ensign Paris"  
> I realized a long time ago my story happened after _Relativity_ , but only just now realized this is also after _Thirty Days_. The last few chapters reminded me that the story wouldn't work if it happened after _Unimatrix Zero_ (when Tom gets his rank back), hence the changes.


	11. Psych 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miral and John meet on Kessik IV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: rest, struggling

Miral stepped down from the shuttle. Her boots sounded muted on the plastic covered metal. She hoisted her bag higher on her shoulder, looking for the officer she heard would meet her. He seemed to spot her at the same time she spotted him. He looked handsome – in a human way – and, Miral thought, easy enough to look at by her own judgement. His blue uniform struck a contrast to the dull-grey shuttle spire.

He approached her with a smile, “I’m Ensign Torres. You must be Miral?” Either translators were improving or he said her name in Klingon. Impressed, she held her hand out in a gesture she knew was common to humans. He shook her hand.

“I am Miral,” she replied. Ensign Torres led the way to a turbolift, providing Miral with a brief tour as he did where he stuck to concrete facts about the facility. When they reached ground level and stepped outside, Miral squinted at the sunlight before her eyes adjusted.

“You’re lucky: your lodgings aren’t far from here. We can walk.” He smiled at her. She only returned it because he seemed to expect it. They began again toward her lodgings. It was like all the others they had passed. Solar panels adorned the low slanted roof on both sides. Red brick showed on the face. It was small and simple, but it would work for her. Her escort checked his pockets for a moment, muttering under his breath. Finally, he offered her a flat metal trinket on a silver ring. “Your key.” It did not look like any key she knew.

She took it from him, looking at it curiously. “Thank you.” Miral took the key with her up the stairs to the door and twisted the handle. It would not turn. She tried twisting harder, pushing on the door as well.

“Is the key stuck?” Ensign Torres joined her on the porch. “Some of them do that.” Miral stepped back from him to give him space, catching a pleasing scent as she did. “Where’s the key?” He looked around and spotted it still in her hand. He held his hand out, “May I?”

“Here,” Miral dropped it into his palm and watched him insert it into the door, twist to the left, and turn the door handle.

He pushed the door open, “There you go.” He took the key from the door and handed it back to her.

“Thank you, Ensign Torres.”

He smiled, “Call me John.” Miral nodded as she stepped inside her new home. As she closed the door behind her, she decided that smiling was an overly ingrained human habit that would take some getting used to.

* * *

A knock at the door interrupted Miral’s unpacking. She set the books down on the bookshelf before answering.

John smiled at her when she opened the door. She found she liked his smile as he spoke, “Hi, Miral. I have your schedule and PADD here.” He handed her the PADD, which presumably contained her schedule.

“Thank you,” she said as she took the PADD from him. She felt another item behind it as she took it. Used to handling confidential hand-offs of information, she pretended she did not notice it and set everything neatly on a nearby counter. Her moving aside gave John a clear view of inside her lodgings.

“Oh, you got all of your things already?”

“Most of it. I think a few boxes are still being inspected.”

“I’ll ask about them for you. Do you want any help unpacking?”

Miral looked between him and the remaining boxes, puzzled. “You want to help me unpack? Why?”

John shrugged, “Seems like the nice thing to do.”

“You are not working?” She questioned; he was still in his uniform.

“Dropping off that PADD,” he gestured toward it generally, “was the last thing I had to do today.”

“Thank you, but I am almost finished,” she answered. After he left, Miral picked up the PADD to look at the extra item. At first glance, she thought it was a short file, but reading it closely revealed how to reach John: a call sign and instructions. Although she was not on Kessik IV in a Star Fleet capacity, she did have a communicator in her welcome box. Her agreement as a Qo’noS representative stipulated that her work did not begin until next week. Because of that, she had yet to test her communicator.

Miral retrieved the box with the communicator, read the instructions again, and tapped the badge with her fingers. “Miral to Ensign Torres,” she said.

“ _Torres here,_ ” He answered. “ _Guess that means you saw my note?_ ”

“I did. Is the communicator wearable? I saw something like it on your uniform.”

“ _It is. There’s a magnet in mine but I think yours has a pin since you don’t need a uniform._ ”

She turned it around and discovered the pin fixture. Since she still wanted to unpack, she attached it to her shirt.

“ _Still there?_ ”

“Yes. I found the pin.” They talked while she unpacked.

* * *

“Miral,” John smiled as bright as the sun overhead. “You look lovely.”

“Where will you take me?” She asked, mildly amused at his behavior.

“It’s a surprise,” he replied.

“Will we walk there?”

He nodded. “I think you’ll like it. I already set everything up.”

She grew excited and equally curious. John always gave her something to look forward to these days, something she never expected nor thought she wanted. It felt good to leave the compound walls in his company. She knew that the other humans did not entirely trust her – a fact that bothered her somewhat since she gave them no reason not to trust her. John was not like anyone else. She appreciated that greatly.

John walked them past the tree, the largest tree in sight of the compound, which they sometimes read underneath. Miral eagerly wanted to know what he planned to show her. The gravel became sparse, overcome by dirt. Then dirt gave way to sand. She heard there was a large lake nearby but had not thought to look for it. She studied John now for clues. He caught her looking, grinned and ran down the sandy incline.

Laughing now, Miral ran after him. She found him resting on a blanket out of reach of the water. A basket of food waited in the middle. She sat on the blanket on the other side of the basket from John and stretched her feet past the blanket’s edge. They sat like this a long time, listening to water and wind greet each other. Birds dove at the water occasionally. A few landed briefly to waddle near the water’s edge.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” John started. “Is there anyone at home for you?”

Not quite understanding, Miral repeated, “At home?”

“Someone you like.”

What a curious way to ask if she had family. She answered, “I have cousins on Qo’noS.”

“Cousins? Just _cousins_?”

Annoyed that he had to ask the same question twice, Miral replied, “Yes. Cousins. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know what you think of me, but I think you’re beautiful.”

It took Miral a moment to recognize what he was saying. A light feeling settled below her chest. She thought about them before in that way. She did not know he did as well, but his statement showed her otherwise. Miral leaned closer and John copied her until their lips met halfway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed that. We'll be back to our regularly scheduled B'Elanna and Tom next chapter.


	12. I Think I’ve Broken Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> B'Elanna and Tom reach an understanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: grasp, broken down, (repairing) broken trust

B’Elanna felt a restless urge to walk. She started to move the blanket off her but whether it was by accident or on purpose, Tom chose that moment to put his arm around her waist.

He mumbled, half asleep, “The Doctor said bedrest.”

“How long have you been waiting to do that?” She replied, holding still.

“What?” He yawned. “Sleep.”

“I can’t sleep.”

He snored in response. B’Elanna waited a few minutes before taking his arm off her. She sat up, letting her legs hang from the side of her bed. She waited for her head to stop swimming. She decided a walk around the room would tax her too much while waiting for the sensation to pass. When it passed, she stood slowly and walked to her couch, curling up with a nearby blanket around her. A mixture of guilt and relief chose to confuse her now as it had every other time she sat alone with her thoughts lately.

She still heard Tom snoring in the other room – what a comfort it was to hear him. She hardly felt deserving of it. The thought caused her to rest her head on her knees. The change caused her stomach to clench around the tender wound. As soon as it passed, she lifted her head and lowered her knees outside the blanket to feel around her stomach. She wanted to make sure it had not opened again. Her fingers came back clean.

Tom’s snore stuttered. She listened for it to resume, fearing the worst up until the moment he fell back into his rhythm. She felt wide-awake – no point pretending to sleep. However, her stomach appreciated less every second that she remained sitting. B’Elanna lay out on the couch, staring at the darkened room. Silhouettes of furniture dominated the landscape. She felt out of place and out of touch.

* * *

Tom woke up to an empty bed, unsure as to why. Hesitating since he remembered the last time this happened, he listened around him before moving. Upon not hearing anything, he started to worry for the worst. The Doctor said she needed bedrest; she could have collapsed trying to move. Spurred by the frightening thought of her in pain or unwillingly unconscious, Tom tossed the covers off him. He ventured out of the room after requesting fifteen percent lights.

He did not need to worry. She was there on the couch. He saw her stir when the lights turned on.

“Why are you on the couch?” He asked.

“I couldn’t sleep.” As she answered, she folded her feet to give Tom space on the couch.

Tom sat down, realizing that if she gave him the space to, she was not ready for him to coax her back to bed. He put a hand on her calf in a comforting gesture – for him as much as for her. “Why not?”

She shook her head and sighed. “I don’t know.”

“It sounds more like you just don’t want to talk about it,” he said. B’Elanna looked at him, searching his face for a long minute.

“Why did you forgive me?” She finally asked.

Tom felt a chill from remembering how she looked – both when he took her from Chakotay and when he tried desperately to heal her in Sickbay. “I regretted I hadn’t earlier when I thought you were dying.”

She looked at her hands, speaking softly. “I regretted saying everything I said to you.” After a pause, B’Elanna sat up, switched her legs to the other side, and gently leaned against Tom with her blanket pulled close still.

Tom wrapped his arm around her to pull her closer while resting his nose in her hair. He felt a tug in his throat, more bittersweet than sad and more relieved that bittersweet.

“I don’t think I want try to prevent Khitomer anymore,” B’Elanna said in a tone that portrayed how she thought the news was good news. However, it was not like B’Elanna to give up on anything. Her ominous change of opinion overshadowed any good news tone she wished to give him.

“Funny, I was just thinking the opposite.”

“Why?”

Tom traced circles on her arm as he spoke, “It’s something you really wanted. And I realized, maybe it was selfish of me not to help you.”

“Selfish?” She asked.

“Yeah. Strictly speaking, you’re right about four thousand lives being a lot and possibly worth two lives. Maybe it’s selfish that I want to come with you too. I don’t want to wait around on _Voyager_ to suddenly forget you and appear who knows where.”

“I know I said that before. I don’t know anymore.” She curled closer to Tom.

“I was thinking: could we send a message to our better selves?”

B’Elanna laughed, “Better selves?”

“Younger selves. The ones we’ll end up helping if we succeed. You’ll have to tell me if I’m wrong, but won’t we make an alternate timeline?”

“I think so,” she agreed. “What would we tell them?”

“We couldn’t tell them too much. Honestly, we probably shouldn’t tell anyone else we’re planning on giving them a message.”

“I agree. So what would you tell younger Tom?” she asked, obviously curious.

Tom had to think about it. “Shape up; Ask her out.”

“That’s vague,” B’Elanna said. “Ask who out?”

“Younger Tom knows who I’m talking about,” he gave her an affectionate squeeze.

“I don’t think I’ll end up in the Maquis if we prevent Khitomer.”

“I saw you once at the Academy.”

“You did?”

“I wanted to ask you out. I don’t know why I never did.”

“Still, I don’t think I’d go to the Academy.”

“Your father was in Star Fleet; you might. Or maybe that’s what you should tell younger B’Elanna: Go to Star Fleet Academy.”

“Okay. How would we get them the messages? We’ll be on Romulus.”

“Hmm. I wonder where Aktuh or K’tal go after Romulus. Their group was big enough that someone should get close to Kessik IV or Earth.”

“Or Qo’noS.”

“Definitely Qo’noS,” he confirmed.

They cuddled in silence a while longer before B’Elanna spoke, “You really think we should do this?”

“Yes, I think so. We can sleep on it though.”

B’Elanna scoffed. “Of course, you started this conversation to get me back to bed.”

Tom stood as he answered. “You started it when you asked me why I forgave you.” He took both of B’Elanna’s hands in his to help steady her when she stood. The blanket slipped from her shoulders to the couch. He planted a kiss on her lips. When they parted, he added, “I love you.”

B’Elanna leaned into his chest to say, “I love you, too.”


	13. Breathe In, Breathe Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Voyager_ 's crew spends time repairing and redirecting their efforts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: lovingly, oxygen masks

After all this time, B’Elanna thought that the weightlessness of space might feel more natural. She focused on her breathing to distract from the uneasy feeling of having no place to call the ground. Harry jetted past her to his next repair location.

“ _Still don’t have your space legs, Maquis?_ ” He said into her earpiece.

“It wouldn’t be so bad if you slowed down,” she answered as she refocused on the loose rivet. Simply having her knees and feet metallically attached to the hull was no substitute to classic gravity or welcome gravplating.

“ _What does my speed have to do with you?_ ” He asked.

“I have to watch it.” She looked over at him now that she finished her section so she knew where to go next. “Are you really doing flips?”

“ _You should try it._ ”

B’Elanna laughed, “No, absolutely not.”

Harry laughed and righted himself with a few expert pumps of compressed air. “ _You’re missing out._ ”

B’Elanna rolled her eyes. She doubted she was missing anything. “Finish up; I want to get back inside.”

“ _Sure thing, Maquis.”_ Harry replied. He attached himself to another section of hull for repairs. B’Elanna took her time moving to her next section. It was above where she was so rather than disengage from the hull, she stood and walked forcefully up to it.

“ _How have you been? I never got the chance to ask,_ ” Harry said when she nearly finished the last rivet in her new section.

“I’m fine.”

Harry made a sound of agreement and encouragement. She did not have anything else to say really – not to Harry at least.

“ _Tom said you were thinking of going back to the simulation. Are you sure you want to?_ ”

“I knew Tom told me what I wanted to hear.” She held the riveter too long, causing it to scrape on the hull. She pulled it back before it got too bad.

“ _No, that’s me wondering. He seemed like he liked the idea actually._ ”

“Oh.”

“ _Well?_ ”

“It’s more like I need to. I want to, too, but it’s true I don’t want to lose Tom or _Voyager_ or anyone I know now.”

“ _I understand that. I don’t want to forget Voyager or the friends I’ve made either, but I’ll be alright. Maybe somehow the change would mean I stay on Earth with Lizzie,_ ” Harry concluded in a speculative tone. She gave him a noise of understanding before they continued to work in comfortable silence.

* * *

Tom greeted her with a kiss as soon as she took off her helmet. Lately, he wanted to show her more often how much he loved her. She appreciated it even knowing the reason.

“How did the repairs go?” Tom asked.

“Nothing exciting,” she replied as she continued removing the rest of her gear.

“B’Elanna doesn’t like my flips,” Harry interrupted from across the room.

“What if you ran out of compressed air?” She posed at Harry quickly.

He brushed it off, “I’m tethered to _Voyager_. Besides, you wouldn’t leave me.”

She looked at Tom with an expression, which said that she could leave Harry next time.

“Harry, I think she might,” Tom admitted.

“Tom!”

“What? Was that look supposed to be a secret?” Tom joked. “How was I supposed to know?” From the grin on his face, she knew he knew perfectly well.

“Thanks, man,” Harry called to Tom.

B’Elanna shook her head at Tom, “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know,” Tom replied as he helped her take her gear to decontamination. “Means you won’t leave me spinning outside.”

B’Elanna pretended to think about it, earning a laugh from both Harry and Tom.

“Ready to go to the meeting?” Tom asked B’Elanna. Harry already took several steps ahead of them out of the door.

Remembering her conversation with Harry, she asked with apprehension, “You’re sure you want to do the simulation with me?”

“I’m sure.”

“Then I’m ready.”

* * *

Kathryn’s senior staff plus Ducane filed into the conference room. She noticed with satisfaction and relief that B’Elanna and Tom held hands up until they split to either side of the table. Once everyone settled, she stood to get their attention. The effect was immediate; side conversations ceased and eyes turned to her.

“Thank you for coming to this impromptu meeting; I know it was short notice,” she said. “Due to the high number of serious injuries, I wanted to ask everyone whether we should continue in Ducane’s simulations with the goal of effecting changes to the timeline. Does anyone have anything to say to start?”

At the last second of the appropriate silence before she continued, Tom spoke up, “Captain, B’Elanna and I would like to try the simulation again – together.”

She knew she did a bad job of hiding her surprise, “Oh? The two of you sustained the most serious injuries, what makes you want to risk that again?” They shared a look, as if forming their thoughts together in some way.

“We both think it’s important to try one more time.” B’Elanna explained. “Our first run discovered the traitor’s existence in Aktuh’s group. We couldn’t be prepared for that.”

“No, no one was,” Kathryn agreed. She turned to Ducane to address him, “Ducane, did you discover why the Romulans attacked B’Elanna and Chakotay on sight? I don’t want a repeat of that.”

“The simulation never suggested Lieutenant Torres and Commander Chakotay. My understanding is that there is a nuance in their partnership or presence together that set the Romulans to attack.”

“Captain,” Tuvok began, “Lieutenant Torres and Ensign Paris did not run into serious trouble until after meeting Aktuh’s group. If they commit to similar actions then they should be safe until then.”

Kathryn nodded. “I agree.” She sat down. “We’ll have one more run with Tom and B’Elanna. When would you like to go?”

“As soon as possible,” B’Elanna stated.

Tom said at the same time, “In three days.” When B’Elanna looked at him, a silent exchange occurred.

“Three days,” B’Elanna echoed.

Kathryn nodded. “Ducane, will you be ready in three days?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’ll send B’Elanna and Tom back in three days at oh-seven hundred,” she confirmed before dismissing the meeting.


	14. Is Something Burning?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning. -Louis L'Amour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: cocoon, fire

“Why was three days so important?” B’Elanna asked the quarters as she walked inside. She knew Tom would be waiting somewhere within as he liked to do now that they knew their time could be limited.

“We have to get our messages ready,” he answered as he came into view carrying two champagne flutes.

She paused in taking off her jacket, curious how champagne had anything to do with messages. She could not think of a reason it would be.

“And, just in case, I wanted to spend time with you,” Tom said as he set the flutes on the dining table to help her with her jacket. He snuck her a kiss when her jacket came off into his hands. She kissed back, placing a hand on his chin and left it there when they parted.

* * *

“John,” Miral roused her sleeping mate. Habit and metabolism made her typically wake earlier than him. As John looked at her from within his blanket bundle, sleepy-eyed, she gave him the good news, “it finally worked.”

He sat up slowly. The blanket loosened to fall to his waist. He rubbed his eyes before asking with surprise as if his brain were finally registering her words, “It worked?”

She nodded and repeated with a wide smile. “It worked.”

John surprised Miral by embracing her. After a moment, she wrapped her arms around him. She reveled in this moment and this feeling.

“You’ll be a great mother,” he said into her ear.

* * *

After changing out of her uniform per Tom’s request, B’Elanna called from the bathroom to Tom, “You changed too right? I’m not the only one this…” She looked for the word and found, “elegant.” Not to say, that she did not like it – but if Tom thought that she will be content just to parade for him –

“Of course I changed,” came Tom’s quick answer, muffled though it was by the door between them.

“Are you done? I’m ready,” she said, turning to see how the slope of the dress’ hem swept back to show off her legs.

“I’m done.”

B’Elanna gave herself one last look, fixed a stray hair strand – now she felt self-conscious about her hair but she refused to give in to the feeling – and left the bathroom making (she hoped) a grand entrance.

She wasted the entrance on the empty bedroom; Tom stood in the dining room near the table. She moved purposefully into his sight, studying his smart tuxedo. She did not think she ever saw him in a tuxedo. His definition of ‘formal attire’ seemed only to consist of vests.

* * *

“I always liked B’Elanna for a name,” Miral commented during dinner. John looked up at her. He was not sure how to start what he wanted to say. How would his daughter handle a name that sounded like that? He had an image of a grade-school girl with brown hair and brown eyes crying because kids around her were chanting ‘ _bayyy_ -lanna, _neigh_ -lanna’ or simply making horse sounds at her.

“It’s pretty, but I think it sounds a little strange in Standard,” he replied.

“What does that matter?”

“Most of the families here use Standard; I don’t want her teased for her name.”

Miral scoffed, “Teased? We will teach her to stand her own.”

“Of course we will, but kids can be incredibly mean.”

“She will be stronger than mere words.”

John realized he hit a sore spot. Still, he had to make himself clear. “She should not _have_ to be strong is all I’m saying.”

Miral shook her head, disagreeing. “Do you have a name you like?”

“No.”

“Then B’Elanna will do,” she said with such finality that John knew arguing the point would only drain him pointlessly. Decisions of greater importance deserved his energy more than the matter of a name. After all, his wife raised a valid point: they would be sure to teach their child to be strong regardless of her name.

* * *

After Tom pulled out the chair for B’Elanna, he lit the twin candles, which sat between them without hindering his view of B’Elanna when seated. He sat across from her after.

“What’s for dinner?” B’Elanna asked as she picked up her flute.

Tom chuckled and replied good-naturedly, “It’s always food with you.”

B’Elanna, not quite offended nor overly pleased, mumbled, “I like your food.”

“I know; I’m only teasing.” Tom picked up his flute and started a toast before she could drink from hers. “May we always find one another.”

“And fall in love,” B’Elanna added before clinking her glass to his. He smiled before taking a sip. Her romantic side sometimes seemed shy about coming out. He felt glad it attended tonight. He set his flute down to retrieve dinner from the replicator. He placed her heaping plate down first before sitting with his own.

“Mmm, pasta,” B’Elanna approved.

Tom nodded with satisfaction as they both started to eat.

* * *

A cry of anguish interrupted John’s playtime with B’Elanna. The infant, too, looked away from the crinkly toy he held overhead toward the sound. John set the toy down on her play mat. He then scooped B’Elanna up to his chest, careful to support her head before remembering that the half-Klingon in her meant she could already support her own head at only three months old with ease.

“Miral? What’s wrong?” He asked as he entered their bedroom. She was rooted to the bed, viewing news footage of fire and smoke. Romulan ships darted in and out of the picture. Ticking along the bottom, John read: Romulans attack Khitomer Colony, four thousand dead. He immediately moved to hug her. Before he could however, she spun on him and nearly dislodged B’Elanna from his arms when they bumped. He did not think she meant to or even noticed.

She spat, “No hug will fix this.”

“I’m sorry,” he had to start bobbing to soothe the crying B’Elanna. “Do you want to talk?” B’Elanna’s sobs slowed to a whimper and then a complete stop as he spoke. John continued bobbing throughout.

Miral turned away, clearly troubled and on-edge, “No. Those Romulan,” she swore in Klingon. Then she turned around. “Khitomer should have been protected. _Where_ was Starfleet in all this?” She accused.

“I don’t know, Miral. I don’t know.” He paused and spoke softly. “Why don’t we find a sitter for B’Elanna? I think we could use the time together.”

Mentioning their daughter caused her expression to soften. “No, no sitter.” She moved to John to take B’Elanna from him. He knew how much comfort holding their baby girl brought him; it felt right for Miral to crave that as well.

She cooed to B’Elanna, “Lanna, Lanna, my strong, little girl.” She brought her face closer to B’Elanna’s, “I will keep you safe until you can, Lanna, Lanna.” The infant giggled and reached up to play with Miral’s hair. John smiled.

* * *

B’Elanna studied Tom as he walked through the living room. “You’re strange you know that?”

“Strange how?” He replied.

B’Elanna pulled her blanket closer around herself and tucked her feet in. “First you say we should dress up and then you say after we eat that we should get into our pajamas.”

“Isn’t that what one normally does after dinner?” He teased as he sat on the couch beside her.

She offered him some of her blanket. “You know what I mean.”

He took the offered blanket and tucked it between his shoulder and the couch. She knew the gesture was for her benefit so the blanket would not rest so low on her as to make her chilly.

“I’m trying to keep all of the memories fresh.” He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest in her favorite way. “Just in case.”

She had not thought of that. “Oh.” After a pause, she asked, “Are you worried?”

“If I said no, you wouldn’t believe me.”

She laughed. “No, I wouldn’t.” After another pause, she admitted, “I’m worried too.”

“I know.” He gave her a squeeze.

She felt an urge to kiss him and acted on it by lifting her head to meet him. B'Elanna's hands found their way outside of the blanket to cup Tom's face. She felt his hands on her waist. She leaned into the kiss. He resisted laying back as she wanted (and half expected). Instead, he broke their kiss.

“We should record our messages first,” he told her. She caught a hint of regret, which disappeared when he added in a sultry tone, “We’ll have plenty of time _after_ for freshening our memories.”

She smirked at him. “Alright, Hotshot.” She repositioned herself against him innocuously. “Start recording.” Together they recorded a simple message, hoping that if the words were not enough, then the image of them happily entangled would convince their younger selves. As soon as they finished, Tom pulled B’Elanna onto him as he lay back on the couch, blanket tangled at their feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm officially adding the "bayyy-lanna, neigh-lanna" teasing to my reason for why B’Elanna never corrected anyone’s pronunciation on _Voyager_...


	15. Into the Unknown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts of what might happen preoccupy _Voyager_ 's crew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: protected, possession

Tom scanned the cafeteria from his seat. Every person he looked at offered him a gentle smile. Even Neelix acted extra nice – not that he complained (it got him pudding). “Harry, what’s with everyone?”

Harry pushed his food around uncharacteristically, hardly noticing.

“ _Harry_ ,” Tom repeated. Knowing his friend had an almost unhealthy reaction to the comm tone, Tom tapped his badge, “Paris to Kim.”

Harry tapped his badge to respond automatically, “Kim here.”

“You sure about that?” Tom asked.

Harry finally looked up at him. He closed the line when he did. “Why did you comm me?”

“You didn’t notice me talking to you right in front of you.”

“I didn’t?”

Tom shook his head. “What got into you – and the rest of _Voyager_?”

“ _Voyager_?” Harry asked.

Tom gestured to the room at large. “Everyone is being extra polite to me. B’Elanna noticed it too this morning.”

“B’Elanna sometimes has a short fuse; people tend to be polite with her.”

“Politer than usual.” Tom opened his pudding. “Vorik left her _chocolates_. If I didn’t know better I’d think the little weasel was trying to pull one on me.”

Harry stayed silent.

Tom paused midway to placing his spoon into the pudding for the first bite. He instead set them both on the table. “I’ll give you my pudding if you tell me what’s going on. I know you know.”

“No, you keep it.”

Tom opened his hands on the table toward Harry to emphasize his point, “Now I _know_ something’s wrong. Since when do you deny pudding? Are you a fake Harry Kim? Possessed? Drugged?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me. I’m me.”

“If you could magically be on Earth, what’s the first thing you want to tell Lizzie?”

“It’s Libby.”

“You’re not a fake then,” Tom said, leaning back into his chair. He reached for his pudding, but Harry snatched it quickly from in front of him. “Hey, you said you didn’t want that.”

“I changed my mind,” Harry said as he took the first bite of pudding. “You remember how I’m not _your_ Harry right?”

“I usually forget actually,” Tom said in a thoughtful tone. He reluctantly leaned forward to start eating the rest of his meal.

“I was thinking. If you and B’Elanna are successful, I might not exist.”

“This is going to give me a headache isn’t it?”

“Probably,” Harry admitted. “On my ship, you were the one that took us into the plasma drift and the subspace divergence field. Then the B’Elanna on my ship was the quicker one to do the plasma bursts. If either of you aren’t on _Voyager_ , I wouldn’t be here.” Harry finished Tom’s pudding and looked at the room. “People are wondering what will change around here if you and B’Elanna are successful.”

Tom squeezed his eyes to think. “B’Elanna thought,” he opened his eyes, “that we would be creating alternate universes.”

“In 2346 you would be, but alternate universes tend to converge the further into the future you move.”

Tom remembered his and B’Elanna’s decision to send their younger selves messages. They had vowed to protect their secret messages. He told Harry, “You won’t remember any changes.”

“Doesn’t mean everyone isn’t wondering whether they already have the best version of their lives now.”

Tom nodded, “I think I’m one of them. But, if I don’t help B’Elanna, then that won’t be the case much longer. Besides, I’d go crazy wondering when I’ll forget her if she went on the mission without me.”

“Nobody blames you,” Harry replied.

“I hope nobody blames B’Elanna either. It’s only natural she’d want to prevent Khitomer. If anyone’s to blame it’s the Romulans or maybe Ducane; he pulled us into this.”

Harry nodded. His apparent mood lifted considerably as he changed topics to those more in line with what Tom and Harry normally discussed. The rest of lunch passed without another mention of time travel or Khitomer.


	16. A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> B'Elanna and Tom give the simulation of the past one last try together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: faint, shoot the hostage

Tom found himself hesitating at the doors to the holodeck. The grey doors opened for B’Elanna as she stepped ahead of him, revealing the crosshatched yellow and grey space.

She looked back at him to ask, “Coming?”

He searched her eyes. He felt faint at the idea of losing B’Elanna. Tom pulled her to him, but given how easily B’Elanna came, he knew she was expecting him to do this. He kissed her, crashing into her. She held her own and pushed into the kiss. He knew the kiss had to be brief – she would not stand for a prolonged display – so he put all of himself into the brief seconds. She pulled back by dropping down to her heels, face still tilted up at him. He dropped his forehead to hers and closed his eyes.

After a moment, he reluctantly pulled away to say, “Ready,” and followed her in.

* * *

“This requires more thought than one evening,” Aktuh commented. “You will stay here tonight. Tomorrow, we will make a plan. K’tal, show them where to eat and sleep.”

Tom felt a thrill of relief. They made it this far. He knew there was a traitor. He could avoid them by staying in the cave when K’tal tells him to, if he tells him to. Though most of the events happened as he remembered, a few small things changed. For one, he walked out of the cave without B’Elanna’s disrupter. She grabbed it first.

K’tal led them to a lower pit surrounded by trees on the far side of the cave system. The cave and trees obscured the Romulan base. In the dark, they would not be able to see the smoke from the low-burning fire.

K’tal sniffed the air and made a noise of approval. “Food should be ready soon. I will show you where to sleep after we eat.” K’tal moved to take a seat across the fire from them. B’Elanna led Tom to a pair of seats out of the way of the others. It was convenient that they sat here before, out of earshot.

“She looks like the traitor from the holorecording.” B’Elanna whispered to him with a smile to disguise the weight of their conversation from onlookers.

Tom turned back to her with a smile and answered, “Which one?”

“Braided hair, dark bronze skin.”

Tom spotted the woman on a bench with two others. She looked in the middle of an animated story. Just at that moment, her party laughed loudly. She did not look like a traitor. “Ducane said the holoprogram might change with any little changes we make. You picked up the disrupter.”

“What?”

“Last time you hesitated and I picked it up for you.”

“Sorry, I forgot.”

“We’ll have to be extra careful.” Tom tried to watch her without being too obvious about it. He assessed, “She doesn’t look like a traitor to me.”

The chef – whether that was his job regularly or for the night, Tom did not know – started handing out bowls from the cauldron over the fire. He came closer to them so they changed topics until they had their food and he was safely out of earshot.

“He wasn’t very friendly,” Tom observed. “Maybe it will be him.”

“Maybe.” B’Elanna started to eat, watching the circle of people. Tom followed suit, genuinely enjoying the simulated taste of the holographic food. It was meaty, but not something that he recognized.

After dinner, K’tal showed B’Elanna and Tom where to sleep. They chose the same space as before. Tom curled protectively around B’Elanna.

* * *

B’Elanna was surprised to find herself awake at dawn. Tom stirred behind her. From the look of the slow-breathing lumps in the half-light, they might be the first awake.

“It’s morning?” Tom whispered groggily.

“I think so.”

“So the tracker…” He yawned. “So the tracker didn’t lead them here?”

“Maybe there never was a tracker. They might have followed us last time.”

“Probably.” He yawned again and held her a little tighter for a moment before settling back to sleep. B’Elanna let herself sleep, comfortable in the knowledge that they were past the worst.

* * *

Commotion in the cave woke B’Elanna next. She saw the others begin to rise: some sitting up, others already moving. She sat up herself and looked at Tom, admiring his restful face before nudging him to wake him.

“Good morning,” she said as he blinked at her.

He stretched, “Morning.” He sat up next. “Did Aktuh say when we were going to talk about a plan?”

“I don’t think so. Probably soon.” She stood up and did her best to unwrinkle her clothes. Tom followed her out of the cave when she finished. Before they could leave however, the holodeck returned to its original gray and yellow grid.

“What?” Tom spun around to look. “Did it fail?”

“ _Janeway to Paris_ ,” came through Tom’s comm. He looked at B’Elanna, puzzled, as he accepted the hail.

“Paris and Torres here.”

“ _In the night, Aktuh led a small group to extract Lhaes. Lhaes was not cooperative and a member of Aktuh’s group was forced to shoot him._ ”

“The simulation ended because Lhaes died?” B’Elanna asked.

“ _No. It ended because the simulation calculated his death would prevent the Khitomer Massacre._ ” After a moment, the Captain added, “ _Congratulations._ ”


	17. I Did Not See That Coming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> B'Elanna and Tom silently struggle with the decision to move forward on the mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt: trembling, dirty secret

Ducane monitored the holoprogram while waiting for the volunteers to step inside. He had one chance to get this right. With a few deft additions he previously worked out, he modified Aktuh towards slightly more impatience. It was the smallest change he could add that would guarantee the pair’s success. With every pair, every calculation, every observation, Ducane knew Ensign Paris and Lieutenant Torres showed the most promise of being successful. He grew impatient with the constant back and forth and Janeway’s blind insistence on rules she had no real experience. It irked his sense of responsibility and frankly, he found it naïve at best and childish at worst for her to think she knew more than he did as a trained timeline agent.

He shook his head at the screen while his thoughts played out. The pair finally stepped inside the holodeck. Ducane stepped away from the console to keep himself busy with his PADD calculations until Lieutenant Commander Tuvok arrived.

* * *

His hands trembled now. Conveniently, he had no helm duties until his mission with B’Elanna. However, it did not escape the Doctor’s notice while he worked in Sickbay.

“Mr. Paris, do you need a medical consult?” The Doctor asked.

Tom set down the tool he had started disinfecting and placed his hands on the counter, thinking. He started, “Doc, what do you know about temporal mechanics?”

“I am knowledgeable in many fields outside my original medical duties,” the Doctor stated with his characteristic grin, “including music, writing, even programming. But I can’t say I know temporal mechanics well.” It took the Doctor a moment to connect the dots. “You’re nervous about the upcoming mission with Ms. Torres.”

“Great diagnosis, Doc,” Tom replied sarcastically.

The Doctor pursed his lips in offense. “Did it occur to you that I would like to help?”

“Sorry,” Tom replied, “reflex.”

The Doctor nodded, “Of course, I should have realized, humor is a common defense mechanism.”

“No offence, but I don’t want to be shrinked,” Tom said.

“Avoidance is common too,” he commented from far away.

Tom turned around to see what the Doctor was doing. He sat at his computer, typing. “What are you writing?” Tom asked.

“My observations.” The Doctor answered. He focused on the screen, continuing to type before pausing. “Have you spoken with B’Elanna about your feelings?”

“Doc.”

“Take it as a suggestion from a friend then.”

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind,” Tom deadpanned. He regretted sharing and returned to disinfecting tools. He did not know how to approach B’Elanna. He agreed to help her after all. She already ran off to do the simulation on her own; what was stopping her from doing the mission on her own?

* * *

B’Elanna had nothing left to do: reports triple-checked, repairs made, scheduling confirmed. Nothing remained to distract her from thinking about the upcoming mission. She stood from her office chair, desiring to walk.

She still felt in shock from the simulation success. Seemed that they hardly did anything to aid in the success. She told herself that Aktuh would never have known about the massacre without her and Tom telling him, but she felt uneasy still. If it had been that easy all along, why didn’t it work last time? Still, they had done a few things differently, however small they may have been.

The memory of creating their message twisted in her mind. Would it get through to their younger selves? When the possibility of a mission was only slim, it hadn’t felt so important to get it right. Maybe she should suggest recording a longer message. Maybe she was overthinking it. She probably was overthinking it. She couldn’t believe she could be so close to having everything she ever wanted. The mission _had_ to work and the message had _better_ work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting chapter 18 up tonight too!


	18. Panic! At the Disco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things are simply inevitable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: cushion, paranoia

Tom followed close behind B’Elanna under the cover of dark. Clouds drifted to cover Romulus’ large, red moon. They both stopped, waited, listened. Tree leaves rustled all around them. Tom turned his head to follow the sound of a wild animal in the distance. It sounded vaguely wolf-like. Wolves are large animals – very large animals. It occurred to him that the Romulans were not their only threat.

The clouds drifted away from the moon, washing the landscape in red. B’Elanna resumed her creep toward the Romulan base. Tom kept up as a bad feeling started to twist in his stomach. He reached out to B’Elanna to stop her, grabbing her arm gently.

She stopped to look back at him, a question in her eyes.

He whispered, “Wait.”

She replied, “For what?”

“I don’t know,” he concluded, “Something feels off.”

She seemed to take his word as she took his hand and led them behind a convenient front of trees and brush. They crouched to watch the base. B’Elanna let go of his hand. He felt a chill up his spine and turned to look around him. At his side, B’Elanna lay motionless.

* * *

B’Elanna woke with a start from Tom’s anguished scream. It took her a moment to place where she was and realized that he had a nightmare. She turned to comfort him, but he was still asleep, eyes moving fast behind his eyelids. Worried, she gently nudged him. When he didn’t wake, she sat up to try again: nothing.

“Lights fifty percent,” she said before she shook Tom once more. “Tom, you’re having a bad dream. Wake up.”

Tom twisted away from her when his eyes opened. Shocked, B’Elanna backed away to show him her hands.

“It’s me, Tom. It’s B’Elanna,” she said softly.

Tom gathered her to him in a quick motion, keeping her arms in an awkward position near her head.

“What happened?” She asked when he released her and they lay back down together, cradled comfortably in her nest of pillows.

“We were on the mission and, I don’t know how, but you just _died_. I didn’t even see where it came from.”

“Oh.” She searched for something to say. “I’m sorry you dreamed that.”

“Me too.” He sighed, “I don’t think I can sleep now.”

“Want something warm to drink?”

“Would you get it for me?”

She tilted to kiss his cheek and said, “Sure,” before slipping from his arms and the covers to walk to the replicator. She requested warm chocolate milk in a mug with her rations and brought it back to Tom. She handed him the warm beverage as she sat across from him near the foot of the bed.

Tom smiled, “Mmm. You’re wonderful.” He took a sip.

B’Elanna remembered her second thoughts from earlier and asked automatically, “Do you think we should still do the mission?”

Tom held his mug in his hands, studying her face. “It’s what you wanted, right?”

B’Elanna shook her head, “I don’t know. I’m realizing that if I lost you, I – I’m sure I’d move on eventually, but I don’t want that to have to be an option.”

“It was just a dream, B’Elanna.” After a pause, he added, “I think you could use a warm drink too.”

She smiled back, “Maybe.”

He offered her his mug and she took a sip before handing it back to him.

“But,” he added, “we have until the day after tomorrow – er – What time is it?”

“Past midnight.”

“Then, we have until tomorrow when we start the mission to absolutely decide.” Tom finished most of the drink and handed the mug to B’Elanna. She finished the last sip and placed it on Tom’s nightstand.

“Sleepy yet?” She suggested.

“No,” Tom answered. “I know of something else that might help.”

She grinned. “I was just thinking the same thing.” She leaned into a kiss.


	19. Broken Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conversation continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: stoic, grief

B'Elanna intended to be on top, but after Tom's urging, she broke their kiss to lay into the pillows. Tom returned to kiss her, tempting her to follow him each time he moved away teasingly. He entertained himself that way for a while longer before his kisses grew in fervor. She automatically ran her fingers through his short hair, tugging at the long parts to elicit his throaty moan.

He ran his hand, ghost-like, over her side then under her pajama top in the opposite direction. She felt removed from the sensation as thoughts circled her mind. Tom stopped and pulled away suddenly.

"B'Elanna, you're...stiff. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she responded automatically. Still, she no longer felt in the mood. Embarrassed, she pushed herself to sit against the headboard, pulling her knees close for her arms to rest on. "I don't want to anymore," she said, surprised by her even voice.

Tom seemed to be waiting for her to say more. She did not have words for what she wanted to say right now. Really, she was not sure _what_ she wanted to say.

Tom ended the silence, "Okay." He seemed to hesitate on how to comfort her. She realized, somewhat surprised, that she did not even want a hug. Luckily, he did not offer her one. Tom shifted back to his side of the bed. B'Elanna did the same. She stayed seated while he lay back down. She liked having her foot against his back so she extended her leg closest to him to take advantage of more contact. She wrapped her arms around her remaining upright knee and rested her head on top.

The lights remained at fifty percent - too bright to sleep by. B'Elanna did not want to change them. Tom did not change them when he laid down. What was she doing sitting up still? She needed sleep for tomorrow and especially for the day after. She felt stuck. She did not want to sleep because that would mean tomorrow would come faster. She was wasting time now by not allowing herself to be close to Tom. The last moved her into action. She lay down to face Tom's back by curling her arms against him and tucking her top leg between his to be closer. It was dark with her head cradled close to his back.

"You probably won't like hearing it," Tom said gently, "but it's alright to be scared - I'm scared."

"I'm not scared. I'm worried," she clarified. "There's a difference."

Tom answered after a beat, "I'm worried too."

With the language clarified, B'Elanna felt more comfortable talking. "I'm worried we're not doing the right thing. No one on _Relativity_ knows why the Massacre is so anomalous. Maybe it should stay that way. We could make things worse."

Tom took a long time to answer, "What do you want right now?"

B'Elanna wasn't expecting the question. "I want to talk."

"I understand that, but do you want me to talk you out of the mission or?"

"I don't know," she admitted.

"We did alright by the simulation," Tom finally said.

"That's another thing. It felt _wrong_. It felt like we hadn't done anything."

"There were all those little things that changed - butterfly effect."

"It seemed too easy."

"It was a simulation."

That seemed the best explanation for that particular concern of B'Elanna's. On to the next, "What if we don't change anything?"

"What if we do?"

B'Elanna mulled over Tom's answer. It sounded simple, but it raised another host of questions. "I'll probably be a very different person."

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes. I did. I do." She hesitated to ask another question, but finally forced herself to. "What if my father still leaves?"

"B'Elanna," Tom breathed, "It doesn't matter if he leaves still." He caused the mattress to groan softly as he turned around to envelop her within his arms. She knew it was childish of her to still worry the way she did about her father's approval, but it remained difficult for her to get past. It wasn't fair. "You are a brilliant, beautiful woman and you did that all without him. You can do it over if you need to."

"Thanks, Tom." B'Elanna smiled against his chest. She didn't know if he felt it, but thought he might hear it in her voice anyway.

"You're welcome."

Another concern wiggled through her mind which she could not resist asking, "What if we don't meet?"

Tom laughed, "We toasted to it; we have to."

B'Elanna laughed gently.

"We have our message."

"Are you sure it will work?"

"It will work for my younger self. If I remember anything about being him, I know he won't give up on you until you give him a good chance."

B'Elanna laughed more genuinely, "You haven't changed much in that regard."

"No I have not." Tom kissed the top of her head. "B'Elanna, I mean it: We don't need to do this mission."

"No, no. We do. Four thousand people died in the Massacre and we have the opportunity to prevent that. It's just..."

"It's difficult. I know. We're giving up a lot for the hope of something better later."

"Exactly."

They lay together for a timeless moment until Tom finally requested for sleep appropriate lighting. B'Elanna had a feeling that she would wake up as she'd fallen asleep in his arms. It was the kind of night for closeness - for both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next stop: Romulus 2346


	20. Toto, I Have a Feeling We’re Not in Kansas Anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The real mission begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: trapped, lost, field medicine

B’Elanna immediately shielded her eyes, shocked by the sudden temperature change. She felt Tom at her side coaxing her forward. She could not see, but she trusted he could. After a distance, Tom urged her to crawl. Using one arm to continue covering her face, she started to crawl. The biting wind and rain fell away to a distant roaring. She looked around herself as she lowered her arm and sat. First, she spotted Tom crouching in front of her and drenched as much as she felt. Beyond him, a sheet of pebbly dirt. It was generous to call it a cave – more like a narrow dugout. The opening was small enough and at the right angle to keep the rain and wind out at least.

“What was that?” She asked.

“That was never in any simulations,” Tom observed. He peered outside while B’Elanna watched, grateful he did not ask her to do it. “I _think_ it’s day. Would be darker if it weren’t.”

“Are we on Romulus?”

Tom crawled back into the shelter, pulling his tricorder from his belt. He scanned a soil sample. “The soil matches the composition of Romulus.” He observed her. She realized she was shivering. “You should probably get out of those wet clothes,” he said as he stowed his tricorder.

“Did our supplies come with us?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t stick around to look.” He replied.

B’Elanna could not help but frown. “I don’t have anything to change into.”

“I think I can find my way back to our transport location. I can use the tricorder to find my way back. Maybe you can heat the rock wall here,” he gestured behind him to the pebble-dotted dirt wall, “to dry your clothes.”

B’Elanna moved to examine the wall closer. “It looks like someone made this wall, maybe the whole dugout.”

“I wonder why.”

B’Elanna thought to check the ground. She wiped a few layers of dirt away to find it reinforced by pebbles like the wall. “Definitely made by someone. I can heat the ground to dry my clothes. Maybe you should wait to find the supplies until the wind and rain stops.”

Tom shook his head. “The supplies are hidden because of the rain and wind. If we wait, we might not find them first.”

“Alright. If you’re gone longer than an hour I’m coming to find you.”

“Deal.”

* * *

Before leaving the mysterious dugout, Tom added the location to his tricorder’s memory. He felt ready to leave just as B’Elanna decided how to start heating the ground. He pecked her cheek. “Leaving now. Start your timer.”

She laughed. “I will.”

Tom crawled out of the shelter, and started toward the northeast where they came from. It had mostly been a straight walk to the shelter and they had not been that far to begin with. His only concern was that the wind might be strong enough to send their supplies tumbling across the landscape. This area of Romulus had fewer trees than the simulation predicted. Those supplies had little chance of having a tree stop them.

He turned back to the shelter to check that his tricorder was still reading the location correctly. Wind immediately whipped into his face but the tricorder located the shelter with ease. Tom turned back to continue walking. The wind whipped the long strands of his hair around and out of place, but otherwise he could see fine. He felt cold and looked forward to returning to the shelter with their supplies.

Tom felt that weather like this should have made the history books, but considering the history of poor relations with the Romulans, he was not entirely surprised the simulation had not suspected it. However, now that he thought about it, was Starfleet _still_ fighting Romulans in the 31st century? It remained a possibility, even though it seemed like a bleak future.

Together with the tricorder and his limited vision, Tom spotted an irregular shape. Rather, a regular shape within an irregularly shaped landscape. It showed itself as bulky and rectangular. Recognizing the Federation signature a moment later drove Tom to walk faster. There were two small totes.

Tom stacked the two crates on top of each other. They were on the heavier side together, but luckily, the handles felt comfortable. If he held the boxes low on his body, he could leave his tricorder face up on the top crate’s lid to guide him. The crates did make him a human kite. Tom had to stop several times to rest from fighting the wind. Finally, he spotted the dugout’s profile and opening. He dropped the crates next to the opening. He slid one in and then the other before pushing them aside to make space for himself.

B’Elanna immediately started rummaging through the closer crate. She kneeled on her jacket and only wore, what he hoped, were dry underclothes with boots and socks. Her legs looked slightly reddish.

Tom opened the second crate to help her. He asked, “Looking for a change of clothes?”

“No, a dermal regenerator. I burned myself.”

“On the rocks?” He asked incredulously.

“Once I started heating one area, it all started heating up. I burned my legs before I thought to stay on my clothes.”

His crate contained the dermal regenerator. “I found it,” he said as he pulled it out. Before he moved closer with it, he asked, “Is it safe?”

“I think so.” She replied as she replaced the lid on the crate. “If you’re worried, don’t touch anything with your palms.”

Tom awkwardly walked on his knees to B’Elanna. The dugout was barely tall enough for him to sit comfortably in so he had to keep himself low to avoid curling forward to the point of having to touch the ground with his palms. He used B’Elanna’s crate to help support him until he was close enough to use the dermal regenerator on her legs. He settled onto his knees to scan the regenerator over her knees slowly, finding that he could easily admire her calves while he did.

“Did you try calling _Voyager_ or _Relativity_?” He asked.

“No. I thought we should wait for our check-in when we know they’ll be listening.”

He nodded. “Good point.”

“Do you think we’re close to where Aktuh’s group is?”

“Maybe. There’s fewer trees here than I remember, but it’s hard to tell when visibility is so low.”

“Did anyone else have this kind of weather?”

“The Captain would have mentioned it.” Tom added, “it’s pretty severe.” He turned off the dermal regenerator, and ran his thumb over both of B’Elanna’s knees in turn. The skin felt healthy in both cases. “All set.”

“Thank you.”

Tom put the dermal regenerator away. “You’re welcome.” He started taking off his wet clothes. “While we wait, can you show me how you dried your clothes?”

“Sure.”


	21. I Don’t Feel So Well

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their plans start to unravel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: elevated, hypothermia

Tom figured that if B’Elanna could wait for her clothes to dry, he could do the same. To speed the process along, he actually sat out of the way on her jacket while B’Elanna – in her dry clothes and a pair of gloves they found in a crate – dried his clothes. The warm air made him sleepy. If he had the space and clothes on his back, he would lay on the ground or lean against the wall for a quick nap. As he did not want to end up burned as B’Elanna had, he had to settle for tucking his arms around his folded legs and resting his head a top his knees. He let his eyes close and started to drift.

* * *

The blanket around him surprised Tom when he woke up. He did not remember grabbing it. Surely, he would have thought to put more clothes on in case they had to move quickly. It took him a moment to place the pebbly ground under him and the source of the low moonlight. It took longer for his eyes to adjust enough to spot B’Elanna’s form huddled on the other side of the crate against the wall. He then saw his dried clothes on top of the crate. After shrugging out of the blanket, he picked the clothes up to change back into them.

He crawled to the entry of the dugout to look outside. Wispy clouds drifted across the stars, but the wind remained no stronger than a hard breath. He returned to grab B’Elanna’s jacket, shook it out, and then went to check on B’Elanna. Seeing that she looked fine, he draped her jacket over her shoulders and her blanket. She stirred and opened her eyes.

“You’re awake.”

“I don’t remember going to sleep.” He replied. “Did you still call _Voyager_?”

“I tried. I couldn’t get through to them or _Relativity_.”

Tom retrieved his blanket and settled next to her. “Was it the weather?”

“It was clear when I tried calling.” She yawned. “You feeling better now?”

“I feel fine.”

“Good, you didn’t seem like yourself earlier.”

_B’Elanna settled a scratchy blanket around him and rubbed his arms._

“You put the blanket around me?”

“You don’t remember?” She laughed. “You did seem exhausted and when I touched you, you were still freezing.”

Tom laughed with a hint of surprise. “Lucky you noticed.”

“Why?” She curled herself closer. Sitting was not as comfortable as laying down, but at least they had each other.

“Hypothermia? Humans get it too. Sounds like I was approaching it.”

“Oh.” She paused. “I didn’t know that.”

“S’okay.” He stroked her hair. “We managed: I got out of my wet clothes and you eventually put a blanket around me. …You probably shouldn’t have let me sleep until you knew I’d warm up but,” he shrugged, “you’re not the medic here.”

“Sorry.”

He kissed the top of her head. “You’re forgiven.”

“Tom?” she asked after a long silence.

“Hmm?” He replied, already half-asleep again.

“Our messages…we never anticipated this much rain.”

He felt a tug toward alertness: something important relating technology and water. “What about them?”

“I checked and both of them are corrupted.”

“Corrupted?”

“Yes,” B’Elanna answered gently.

“We can’t use them?”

“No.”

“We can record another.”

“We can’t,” B’Elanna answered in the same gentle tone.

“Why?”

“I had to put a number of shields on them to protect them from temporal disruptions. We’d be making a new timeline by preventing Khitomer, but we don’t actually leave our original timeline. The messages are part of our timeline.”

“Fucking paradoxes,” Tom muttered. He lifted a hand to his forehead. “We can’t do a video. Could we do audio only?”

“Maybe? I don’t think I have the tools I need to recreate that shielding to the same level.” She added in the following silence, “I’m sorry.”

“I know. Me too.” Tom replied, perhaps a little too bitterly. B’Elanna did not point it out. “I’m sorry,” He apologized. “I should have taken it out of my pocket before going out a second time.” He knew that if the rain ruined her copy in the trek from beamdown to their dugout, then the rain would ruin his copy as well. Still, he wished he at least checked earlier.

“We can try to make an audio copy in the morning,” she finally said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was a nice long break wasn't it? c:


	22. Does This Taste Funny To You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and B'Elanna return to where they started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: tip-toe, drugged, withdrawal

B’Elanna felt an uneasy feeling. It drove her to wakefulness, alert. She listened around her. Tom snored softly beside her. The wind sounded calm yet. The longer she listened, the more her cause for wakefulness felt like the remnants of a bad dream.

A silver canister rolled in from the entrance. Before she had time to react, it started spewing white, acrid smoke that burned her nose and throat. Tom jerked awake beside her. Knowing they were heading into a trap, she led him out of the dugout – it was better than suffocating.

* * *

The cell looked eerily familiar until B’Elanna recognized it from the simulation, right down to the metal implanted into the wall. Tom was too far for her to reach, linked to the wall as she was. She felt relieved to see him still breathing. She worried he would have a harder time adjusting to the gas with only two lungs.

Not wasting any time, B’Elanna stepped over her wrists to put them in front of her. She pulled and managed not to fall when the chain broke halfway down its length. She went to Tom to check on him first since she did not have her jacket with her anymore. She shook his shoulder gently to wake him.

He looked around first before looking at her. “Looks like the simulation got this right at least. The window’s even in the same place.”

“I don’t have my jacket this time.” She showed him her hands.

“Oh, use mine.” He sat a little higher to give her the space to use the hem of his jacket in order to break her cuffs. They gave way with more control than before; she did not nearly punch him. The chain fell beside Tom’s hip with a gentle rattle. She helped him to stand so he could step over his hands. Once he had his jacket wrapped inside his cuffs to protect his wrists, she fatigued the metal until it gave way.

She stepped up to the door and rose to her toes to look outside. The simulation had not gotten that part precisely correct. The window was a good few inches lower and larger overall in reality.

When B’Elanna left the door, Tom already sat next to the chain, twisting pieces off. She let him take the lead since she did not have her jacket to twist the ends together safely. Instead, she crossed to look out the exterior window. It was barely after dawn. She had no way of knowing if the Romulan’s schedules were similar in reality to the simulation. If they were, they had about two hours before anyone checked on them.

She returned to Tom’s side. When she sat, he tore a slip off the edge of her jacket for her to use with making the improvised shovels. With the practice from the simulation, they had the whole set of shovels finished quickly.

“Ready?” She asked.

“Give me the jacket edge.” He requested. She handed it to him and watched him tie the irregularly shaped strip just above his nose. “It might help with the dirt.” He added when he finished. With his mouth closed, she could not see his chin. When he talked, she could see it peek out from below the fabric.

Tom once again collected the shovels into the hem of his pants before letting B’Elanna climb on his shoulders. She dug quickly, still signaling Tom for a fresh shovel by wiping down his hair. She did not have to wait for him to reshape the old one before continuing since the fabric kept his nose and mouth dirt-free.

* * *

B’Elanna felt a surge of hope as she scooped out the last of the dirt to make the hole large enough for Tom. She did not bother handing the used shovel to him and simply dropped it.

“Did you mean to do that?” Tom asked.

“Yes, I got the hole big enough.” She leaned all the way into the hole to look around the area and saw no patrols. Satisfied, she slipped back out to tell Tom, “Boost me through.”

He turned to face the opposite wall to help her into the hole, feet first. With an effort of balance, she managed to send her feet into the wide window, slip further to her stomach, and then drop to the outside ground. It only jarred her nerves a little when she landed. She heard scraping on the other side of the wall.

“What are you doing?” She asked to Tom.

“Adding footholds.”

She waited on the outside, scanning the area so as not to be caught off guard. She heard Tom grunt behind her and looked up to see his head and shoulders poking through the window. He no longer had the scrap of cloth around his face. B’Elanna reached up to help him down so he would not injure himself. It was an odd angle to help someone climb at, but not impossible for her to manage.

When Tom righted himself on the ground, he pulled her into an excited kiss that tempted her to linger. They did not have time for that; they both knew it. Tom pulled back first and found her hand before looking out at the compound.

“I don’t know where our dugout was.”

“Me neither. Aktuh’s group should be to the north,” she pointed using the morning sun as reference.

“Let’s head there.”

B’Elanna remembered her promise the night before to try protecting another message for their past selves. She turned to gauge Tom’s reaction. “What about the message and the shielding?”

He shook his head. “You didn’t think you had the tools anyway.”

“You’re okay with this?”

“No.” He answered abruptly. “I’m not okay with sitting by either. We’re already here.” He abandoned her hand to hold her face. “I love you _and_ this is the right thing to do. It isn’t either or.”

She nodded, smiling with understanding. “I agree.”

He stole another kiss, one that made B’Elanna long to linger in forever. It seemed that he pulled away much too quickly. He grabbed her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. “Let’s find Aktuh.”

She said firmly, as much to herself as to Tom, “We’ll get this right.” Already, she wondered how protective a temporal shield she could generate with common technology. At the very least, they could make another recording. It might only exist for a short time in the new timeline, but that had to be enough.


	23. What Do I Gotta Do To Get Some Sleep Around Here?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> B'Elanna and Tom actually meet Aktuh's group.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: in extremis, exhaustion, sleep deprivation

They barely stepped a few meters past the reach of the compound’s floodlights before those same lights aggressively turned on. Together, they ran to the cover of trees to observe what would happen. Romulan guards rushed between buildings while shouting. A group splintered off to search the woods several meters from them.

“We should go,” B’Elanna whispered, “before they head this way.”

“Let’s circle around behind them.”

“What?”

“They won’t check it again if they know we aren’t there,” Tom explained. When she only answered with a skeptical look, he added, “Ex-convict. Remember? I think I know a thing about search patterns.”

“You said you never escaped – never mind.” She cut herself off. Now was not the time to argue. “Lead the way – _quietly._ ”

Tom picked through trees and brush toward where they saw the guards disappear. Soon he took a right turn to the east that B'Elanna followed. A few branches on either side of her had been broken back to show green insides and she realized they found the Romulans' path. After navigating toward the sounds of the Romulan guards, Tom stopped short of a small clearing. Three guards pivoted to decide the next area to go. B’Elanna waited with him. The guards headed east. They waited until the sounds of the guards were distant before moving around the edge of the clearing to follow the path broken by the guards into the east.

They had to meter their steps whenever they heard the guards’ voices. The Romulans took their time checking the area. Whenever they heard them, Tom and B’Elanna hung back near the largest trees in the area out of the beaten down path. More than once, they thought the Romulans would circle back and find them when the tree coverings were sparse.

* * *

It was not long before they found a cave to hide in. It looked already that the guards searched it: rocks overturned showing the muddy underside, branches broken revealing green fibers, and – most telling – fresh, booted footprints in the muddy patches.

The cave, larger than their dugout, smaller than any of Aktuh’s, offered some warmth. They sat together in the back on the driest patch of dirt.

“How long should we wait?” B’Elanna asked.

“A few hours. Maybe until sun down if we don’t hear them pass this way again.”

B'Elanna felt Tom nodding off beside her, remembering the gas canister ambush, she nudged him awake.

He jerked with a loud snort, "What?"

"I don't think we should go to sleep now. That's how they got us last time."

"You're right." He rubbed at his eyes. "I'm tired though so if you catch me falling asleep, wake me up."

"I will. And same here." Their earlier wakeup call had been long before dawn and, apparently, sleeping off the effects of gas was not nearly as restful as an actual night's rest. They waited, taking turns to nudge the other awake if it seemed like one was drifting too deeply into sleep. With the time spent sitting, both felt tired by the time the sun finally set.

B’Elanna yawned, “I think we can try leaving now.”

Tom yawned in reply. “I think so to. They’ll probably have more patrols in the morning.”

“I think so,” B’Elanna agreed. They crept out of the cave, feeling heavy from lack of sleep but determined to power through.

Once outside, Tom pointed, “North should be that way.”

B’Elanna independently checked the position of the moons before saying, “I agree.” She yawned, rolled her shoulders to wake her body more, and then started north. Tom followed behind her. She stopped with a grin after only moving a few steps. Blackish clouds shimmered over the stars. The clouds came from the earth, not the sky.

“Smoke, from the bonfire,” B’Elanna said as she showed Tom. “Aktuh’s group used a bonfire for their meals.”

“I hope they won’t mind sharing,” Tom mumbled.

B’Elanna laughed, “Let’s find out.” She led the way toward the smoke. She expected someone would stop them before reaching the bonfire, but was surprised to stumble onto it as the conversation grew in volume. Once they appeared, the groups silenced. She saw Aktuh and K’tal sitting in the circle together.

Disagreeing shouts suddenly went up before Aktuh silenced everyone by standing and asking, “Who are you?”

Although the circumstances of meeting were different, the conversation progressed much the same. Once Tom told Aktuh about preventing the Khitomer Massacre, he agreed to help. Klingon reshuffled themselves around the bonfire so that Tom and B’Elanna had a bench to themselves near Aktuh and K’tal. Someone offered them both food. K’tal, especially, seemed to relax once they both started eating.


	24. You’re Not Making Any Sense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New information complicates the mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: failing, forced mutism, sensory deprivation
> 
> Quick Note:  
> 'aqtuH = Aktuh  
> Qe'tal = K'tal
> 
> (I decided that if it's one of their POV's their names should reflect that even if I can't write the whole thing in Klingon. :D )

“You look tired,” ‘aqtuH observed as the chef came around with seconds. B’Elanna turned another bowl down, but Tom took the offered food.

“Nothing more food won’t fix,” Tom remarked before starting in again. ‘aqtuH, despite himself, was surprised. He had never seen a human take to even the best Klingon cook’s food – theirs was not the best, certainly passable though.

“I’ll go to bed when Tom’s ready,” B’Elanna said. A look passed her eyes: guilt first, then it could have been concern. She looked at Tom, who looked furtively at the rest of his group before stopping briefly on Qe’tal’s mate, DoHla. She had her gaze locked on the newcomers. It was not uncommon for her to study their new arrivals. Where Qe’tal’s judgement came softly, DoHla’s came boldly.

“If you distrust my group; you distrust me,” ‘aqtuH stated firmly. Beside him, Qe’tal focused on the conversation.

Tom looked back at ‘aqtuH, “It isn’t about distrust, Sir.” Tom looked at B’Elanna questioningly before continuing. “Ah, we – we don’t want trouble.”

Qe’tal caught on first and gave a noncommittal sound before returning his attention to his food. For ‘aqtuH, he explained, “Tom is her mate; that is why she waits.”

“No trouble,” ‘aqtuH confirmed with a nod. “When you are ready, I will show you where to sleep.”

* * *

The sleep mat seemed as good as his bed on _Voyager_ to Tom. With B’Elanna in his arms, he could hardly ask for more. His stomach rumbled uncomfortably and he tightened his hold on her until it passed.

“You shouldn’t have had seconds,” she whispered.

“I was hungry,” he whispered back. His stomach rumbled again.

“You remember where the latrine is?”

“Yes,” Tom replied reluctantly. “I’ll go. I’ll go.” He kissed her temple before getting up.

Like the night before, the moon offered enough light to see. Tom retraced his steps to the latrine. It reminded him viscerally of his survival class: mounds of freshly dug dirt, a slight lingering smell, and wet patches.

He felt much better by the time he returned to the sleeping cave. Tom picked his way through the space to his and B’Elanna’s spot. She was not there when he got there. They were one of the first to bed. A few of the group drifted in while he scanned the cave, but nowhere did he see B’Elanna. His mind worked hard to work out an explanation, each coming out more dismal than the last once he realized B’Elanna was no longer in the cave. They could not have failed so soon.

He hurried outside. He was gone a while before, maybe she went to look for him and they missed each other. Perfect, an idea that was not threatening to her life. He headed back along the empty path toward the latrine. As the latrine came into view, he felt the sensation of a beamout.

* * *

B’Elanna found herself with no sense of position. In an instant, the feel of the sleeping mat became a beamout became weightlessness. The absurd thought that she managed to float in space without a suit crossed her mind the moment before her sense returned. It was not a regular beamout and she was not on _Voyager_.

The room around her was entirely white. It seemed to go on forever. She sat up to gain her bearings but it did little to remove the endless appearance. A shimmer caught her eye. It first took the form of a person before solidifying into Tom slowly. He spotted her and relief reached his eyes.

“I came back and you were gone,” he explained.

She stood up to meet his hug. “I didn’t mean to leave.”

Tom released her to look around. “Is this the holodeck?”

“If it is, Harry has some explaining to do. Your beam looked unfocused.”

Tom tapped his badge, “Paris to _Voyager_.” Dense static answered him. A door opened closer than she would have expected to see it.

“Tom look,” she said. She had not noticed it before. Tom turned in time to see the muscular reptile move in on six legs. It reared up to bring two – which B’Elanna realized were arms not legs – higher.

“We had to disable communications. You understand.”

“No, we don’t,” Tom asserted.

“We won’t keep you long. You can return to your mission – unmissed.”

“How do you know about our mission?” B’Elanna asked.

The reptile opened its arms in an apologetic gesture. “The event that you call ‘Khitomer Massacre’ is our doing. The universe suffers less when the Massacre occurs.”

“You _framed_ the Romulans?” Tom asked. “Why?”

“To lessen suffering.” The reptile’s eyes narrowed on B’Elanna, her mouth closed as if it had a mind of its own to decide not to speak. “Let me finish before you ask more,” the reptile hissed. “Aizae find balance. Khitomer Massacre made balance.” The reptile gave an odd shrug. “You may yet find a different balance. We can allow you one attempt.” The reptile turned back for the door and left remarkably fast. It was not until the door closed behind them that the urge to remain silent passed.

“So we have…reptilian Q now?” Tom asked.

The door reopened and the urge to remain silent returned sharply. The same reptile from before returned, clearly angry with narrow eyes and a tense body.

“We are not Q. Q are – ” The reptile hissed and B’Elanna got the impression it was actually a swear of some kind. “They only care about humans. They do not care about the universe like Aizae.” The reptile left. The urge to stay silent remained. B’Elanna looked at Tom. She felt the beginning of a beamout.

B’Elanna found herself on the path to the latrine. Tom’s unfocused beam appeared beside her. She waited for him to solidify before saying, “If the Aizae caused the Khitomer Massacre, that might explain why Ducane said it was so anomalous.”

Tom nodded and, sounding surprised, stated, “it said we could ‘find a different balance’. What do you think it meant?”

“I don’t know,” B’Elanna replied as she led the way back to the sleeping cave. Judging by the cave’s capacity, hardly any time passed while they were with the reptiles. They returned to bed with plenty to think about.


	25. I Think I’ll Just Collapse Right Here, Thanks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time to stop the Khitomer Massacre is here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: intertwined, disorientation, blurred vision, ringing ears
> 
> oh mai, I got them all again.

Tom appreciated B’Elanna lacing her fingers with his even if the recording had zero chance of picking it up. He turned to look at her. She smiled at him. He returned it.

“Ready?” She asked.

“Whenever you are,” he said. Apparently, that was the best answer. She tilted her head up to request a kiss. Tom obliged her before looking down at her modified commbadge between them. He saw her look down too.

“We’ll have sixty seconds,” she reminded him.

“I’m ready.”

B’Elanna pressed the button and spoke first. “B’Elanna, wherever you are, this is B’Elanna. You have to go to Starfleet Academy. Trust me. Trust yourself.”

She looked up at him. Tom added his message, feeling a little odd. “Tom, this is Tom, too. Uh. Try talking to the girl at the Academy. You know the one I’m talking about.”

B’Elanna pressed down on the badge again. Tom felt a knot in his chest as he watched her affix the badge to her tanktop.

* * *

B’Elanna stepped into the cave for their pre-mission meeting. Her badge felt heavier than usual on her chest though she knew there was no physical reason for it. She did not have to add much to close the transmitter and enable it to record a short message.

Aktuh’s group collected themselves around the cave, seeming to take familiar spots. She was not sure where to go. Tom stepped past her and she followed him to an open space near K’tal and the Klingon woman who always seemed to be watching them.

Aktuh stepped toward the center of the cave. He boomed, “the Romulans will fail.” A roar from his group went up. B’Elanna heard Tom join with a shout of his own. Not to be left out, she shouted too. Aktuh turned on the spot slowly to look at everyone. He rose a hand to silence the group. She heard the Klingon underneath the universal translator when Aktuh gave another rousing encouragement. B’Elanna shouted with the group. Aktuh let the noise die down naturally.

K’tal stepped into the center to say, “The first group goes with me. The second goes with ‘aqtuH.” Those near the door parted to let K’tal lead the way outside.

B’Elanna turned to Tom. He seemed to expect her to and he lowered his head to kiss her. She lingered, feeling the weight of their decision all around her. When she finally pulled away, she looked back and forth between Tom’s eyes to figure out what he was thinking. Whatever it was, he was hiding it from her.

“I love you,” he said. “Be safe.”

“I love you,” she replied. “You too.” She smiled softly before turning to follow K’tal’s group.

* * *

Tom watched B’Elanna fall into the end of K’tal’s group. He felt removed from himself yet oddly energized. It was good that they had a plan in motion or he would not know what to do with his extra energy. Aktuh gave K’tal’s group a five-minute head start before he led their group out. Only a few Klingon remained to guard the camp. Tom found himself near the front of the group, only a few steps behind the woman who slightly resembled the one in the simulation who tried to kill him. It was only the way she wore her hair and that she always seemed to keep an eye on them which made Tom notice her. Nothing else about her matched anyone else in the simulation.

The forest felt thinner tonight. Aktuh must know the best path through it. In no time, Tom found himself facing the Romulan base. He automatically scanned the perimeter of angular buildings for any sign of K’tal’s group and B’Elanna. He did not expect to see them, but had hoped for reassurance.

Klingon from the group broke out from the forest one at a time or in pairs to sneak into the various buildings. He had no idea which building would have Lhaes in it – neither did B’Elanna. Like the simulation, K’tal and Aktuh were both familiar with Lhaes and his role with the Romulans.

No one in the group liked his and B’Elanna’s proposal to capture Lhaes. Since speaking with the Aizae, Tom felt certain that capturing Lhaes was the plan to take to create a new balance. He only hoped they could be certain the Klingons would follow the plan.

The group whittled down to only a few members. Tom took advantage of the lull to venture into a building himself. He held his borrowed knife ahead of him in a reversed grip. A sound to his left made him freeze and listen. The sound went in the other direction. Tom continued his measured progress into the building. Up ahead, he saw a partially opened door. As he stepped closer, he heard at least three different voices. He stopped short of the door, frozen as a warning ringing in his ears drowned out the voices.

What was he thinking? Massacre or not, B’Elanna was – is – important to him, more important than anyone. He refused to lose her. He started to back away from the door before anyone noticed him. Everyone should be out of the forest by now. He could go back and wait. He cannot be part of this anymore. If they captured Lhaes, then that would be it. He absolutely could not do it himself.

A scuffle to his left down the same hall from earlier caught Tom’s ear. He heard B’Elanna’s familiar fighting shout and hurried after the sound. He saw her in the middle of fighting two grappling Romulans. Their disrupters were behind B’Elanna next to a third, seemingly unconscious Romulan.

The third, apparently conscious, Romulan moved toward a disrupter. B’Elanna could not see him.

Tom shouted immediately, “Behind you!”

B’Elanna knocked the third Romulan’s hand aside so the shot missed her. Tom's vision blurred when the shot for B’Elanna hit him instead. He fought a losing battle against collapsing and blacking out. He felt his body crumple into a heap before accepting the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, he's not dead. c:


	26. If You Thought the Head Trauma was Bad…

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile on _Voyager_ , Tuvok discovers something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: under the weather, migraine, blindness [to the truth]

Lieutenant Commander Tuvok found the final piece of the puzzle he needed to explain the lost communication with the away team. The quiet throb of a headache disappeared entirely once he saved his findings into his own log. He shut down the simulation code and began powering down the hololab.

Captain Janeway would not like hearing the information he had to offer, but it was information she needed to hear. It did complicate _Voyager_ ’s relationship to _Relativity_ considerably. He should speak with Captain Ducane first. Perhaps there was another angle he had not considered, which Captain Ducane could illuminate for him. The final computer screen blackened. Tuvok left the hololab and continued down the corridors. At this time, Captain Ducane would be in the mess hall for dinner. He took the most efficient route to the mess hall, using the berth afforded to him by many of _Voyager_ ’s crew to expedite his trip.

“Mr. Vulcan! Dinner already?” Mr. Neelix smiled broadly at Tuvok as he stepped into the mess hall. He failed to account for Mr. Neelix’s cleaning ritual which brought him closer to the mess hall’s door than he would normally be.

“No, Mr. Neelix. I’m looking for Captain Ducane.”

Mr. Neelix quickly pointed toward a table where Captain Ducane was seated, “Why, he’s right over there. Would you like me to bring you dinner? I can whip something up for you right away!”

“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Neelix.” He stepped toward Captain Ducane’s table.

Captain Ducane looked up at his approach. He said, “Good evening.”

“Good evening. May I join you?” Tuvok asked.

Captain Ducane hesitated, but said, “yes, of course.”

Tuvok took the seat across from him. “I have a few questions for you regarding the simulation.” He noticed Captain Ducane’s eyes narrowed. “I noticed a line of code that you may be able to explain to me as the editing history tells me you added it. The code slightly increased Aktuh’s impatience.”

“I added that, yes.”

Tuvok waited for further explanation. When he received none, he pressed, “Why did you increase Aktuh’s impatience?”

“Why do you think I did?”

He was prepare for this question. “You showed displeasure each time Captain Janeway postponed simulation runs. With the end of the simulations looming and only one chance left with Ensign Paris and Lieutenant Torres, you wanted to ensure their success.”

“That’s correct,” Captain Ducane nodded. “Have I answered your questions?”

“Yes, you have. I’m going to ask that you follow me to the brig while I speak with Captain Janeway.” Tuvok stood.

Captain Ducane stood. “Of course, I understand.”

* * *

With Captain Ducane in the brig and guarded only by staff he trusted not to share the knowledge prematurely, Tuvok made his way to the bridge. At this time, the Captain would be in her ready room. He greeted Commander Chakotay on his way to the door. Shortly after announcing his presence, the Captain granted him entry. The door closed behind him as he stepped closer. Scattered across the coffee table were PADDs in a style uncharacteristic to her nature. She kneeled in front of the table and looked tired. He stopped a respectable distance away from her.

“Captain, I have news regarding Ensign Paris and Lieutenant Torres,” he stated plainly.

“Let’s hear it,” she waved her hand invitingly.

“Since we lost communications, I suspected we may not have all of the information. I took this suspicion to the hololab where I examined the simulation code.” Tuvok offered the PADD from behind his back, which contained his log, including today’s entry. Captain Janeway quickly stood to take it from him. He continued while she read. “Captain Ducane added unauthorized code to increase Aktuh’s impatience. This led to his decision to infiltrate the compound and ultimately to the events which resulted in Ensign Paris’ and Lieutenant Torres’ success.”

The Captain sat heavily in her chair, rubbing her temples. She asked, “I sent them to Romulus and they don’t have any better chance of succeeding than anyone else?”

Tuvok shook his head, “No, they have the highest likelihood of succeeding.” The Captain looked up at him. He continued, “They are only 34 percent likely to succeed.”

The Captain shook her head. “What is the likelihood that one of them will die?”

“The simulation could not compute that without more input. Given their rate of injury in the simulation, it follows that they will have a high rate of injury in reality.”

“Where’s Ducane?”

“I put him in the brig before speaking with you.”

The Captain stood and stalked to the door. “Come with me. We’re talking to Ducane.”

* * *

Tuvok was fortunate that his superior height allowed him to keep up with the Captain. She did not slow down until she stood in front of Captain Ducane’s cell.

“Ducane, how do I bring my people back?” The Captain asked.

“With all due respect, we can’t just bring them back. They have a mission.”

“I will not lose two of my crew.”

“Two of your crew could be the difference between life and death for thousands.”

The Captain stepped closer to the force field. Tuvok acknowledged his staff’s eagerness to help but held a hand out to suggest that they wait. “You will tell me how to return my crew before I start wrecking havoc on the timeline elsewhere.”

“You can’t.”

“I can and I will.”

“Fine. I’ll have _Relativity_ retrieve them.”

Both parties were quiet for a long moment. The Captain prompted, “Well? Are you going to call them?”

Captain Ducane hesitated, but then pressed on his commbadge after staring at Captain Janeway long enough. “Ducane to _Relativity_ ”

“ _Relativity here._ ”

“Retrieve Ensign Paris and Lieutenant Torres.”

“ _Do you want us to end the mission?_ ”

“Yes. Ducane out.” He looked at Captain Janeway. “Ready to let me out?”

Before anyone could answer, _Voyager_ suddenly went dark. It took several seconds for the emergency power to force illumination of exit markers.

“Do we have Ensign Paris and Lieutenant Torres?” The Captain asked. Tuvok heard the recognizable static of an unresponsive commbadge coming from Captain Ducane.

“I can’t reach the _Relativity_.”


	27. Ok, Who Asked for Natural Disasters?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Janeway investigates the cause of _Voyager_ losing power.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: tempted, earthquake (not really but shaking I guess :D), power outage

“Tuvok, keep an eye on Ducane,” Kathryn ordered as the red alert klaxon reverberated through the ship. "I'll be on the Bridge." She hurried out of the brig. Crew rushed through the corridors to their red alert stations. Despite her short stature, she had no trouble breaking a path straight for the turbolift.

Lieutenant Carey stepped out of it as she stepped inside. She turned and held her hand to the sensor to prevent it from closing. “Lieutenant, report.”

Lieutenant Carey turned to her sharply. “Power went out on all decks in succession like dominos. The antimatter is contained, but I don’t have an explanation. It’s like something is blocking its energy to systems. Emergency power is working.”

She nodded and removed her hand. “Keep me informed.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The door closed. She held to the lift as _Voyager_ rocked around her, jostling the turbolift in its shaft. The computer automatically stopped the turbolift to ride out the turbulence. If this was an attack, they picked a _helluva_ time. She impatiently drew a few loose strands from her face as the turbolift resumed its upward ascent.

The doors opened to a boisterous bridge. Chakotay acknowledged her as she strode to the center of the bridge. The viewscreen showed peaceful space with _Relativity_ stationary and in sight.

“Report,” she ordered as she took station behind Lieutenant Ayala at conn.

Like clockwork, her officers gave her the rundown, starting with Lieutenant Ayala, “I lost navigational control, but we aren’t going anywhere.”

Ensign Kim added, “No incoming messages. We can’t hail _Relativity_ either. Scans show they are running on emergency power only.”

Ensign Lang concluded, “Weapons on both ships are offline.”

“Stand down red alert and move to yellow, Ensign Lang,” she ordered as she moved back to her captain’s chair. If nothing else, they should conserve their power since their antimatter somehow lost all efficiency.

“ _Carey to the Captain_.”

Kathryn accepted the call, “You have updates, Lieutenant?”

“ _Yes._ Voyager _is accepting antimatter energy. However, transporters are completely offline. It’s as though their circuitry’s been disconnected but diagnostics don’t have an answer._ ”

“Can you give us communication?”

“ _I can give you everything except for transporters in just a minute._ ”

She heard him give instructions to people around him.

“We have communications,” Ensign Kim confirmed. Emergency lighting returned to regular lighting only colored by the yellow hue of the yellow alert.

Kathryn looked over at him to request, “Hail _Relativity_ and keep hailing until they answer.” She faced front to watch the ship in the viewscreen. “Lieutenant Carey, what is your assessment?”

“ _An electromagnetic pulse polarized our antimatter just long enough to cause damage to transporters. I don’t know why._ ”

She was tempted to suspect _Relativity_. The only thing stopping her was that something disabled their systems too. “Thank you Lieutenant Carey. Keep working on transporters. Janeway out.” She drummed her fingers on the console to her left.

“You have a theory,” Chakotay pressed quietly as he returned to his seat.

“Ready room,” she replied quietly as she stood. Louder, she added, “The Bridge is yours, Ensign Kim.”

She heard Chakotay follow her into her ready room. The door closed behind them as she retrieved Tuvok’s report. She handed it to him as she started to explain, “Tuvok’s report. He found out that Ducane added code to affect the outcome of the simulation. Tom and B’Elanna only have a 34% chance of succeeding.” She watched him scan over the report and frown.

“Where’s Ducane?”

“Tuvok is with him in the brig. I _swear_ the power went out because Ducane ordered _Relativity_ to retrieve Tom and B’Elanna.”

He set the PADD on her desk. “Harry said their ship was on emergency power too.”

“I know. That’s what I don’t understand. If they were trying to disable us why would –”

“ _Kim to the Captain_ ,”

“Yes, Ensign?”

“Relativity _answered our hail._ ”

“I’ll be right there. Janeway out.”

Chakotay asked, “What do you think they’ll say?”

She sighed, “We can only wonder until we ask.” She led the way from her ready room and turned to Ensign Kim. “Do we have visuals?”

“Audio only.” He fiddled with a setting before nodding to her.

Kathryn turned to the viewscreen out of habit. “This is Captain Janeway of the _USS Voyager_. Do you hear me, _Relativity_?”

“ _We hear you_ ,” a female voice she did not recognize answered her.

“What happened there?”

“ _A pulse disabled all systems. When we stabilized, all transporters remained offline. They’re disconnected from the system somehow._ ”

“It’s the same here. When did it start?”

“ _When we tried to retrieve your crew._ ”

It did not add up. No weapons fired. Transporters remained down. A pulse disabled both ships. _Voyager_ hit unexplained turbulence. It seemed like they just escaped the middle of an invisible battle! She needed Tuvok. He could make connections better than anyone she knew. Before she could comm him, the open line to _Relativity_ drew her attention.

“ _Captain Janeway, we have – we have something. Transporters are online. I – I don’t know why._ ”

She looked back at Ensign Kim, who wore a puzzled expression as he added, “We have transporters here too.”

“ _I think we got them. Standby._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tom and B'Elanna will be back next chapter!


	28. Such Wow. Many Normal. Very Oops.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and B'Elanna return to _Voyager_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: rash, accidents, [Romulan] hunting season
> 
> triggers: semi-graphic fighting (first three paragraphs)

As Tom collapsed, another Romulan appeared in the corridor behind him, most likely drawn by the shouts. B’Elanna shoved the Romulan who tried to shoot her down with enough force to hear a bone break. She caught the rising anger. Normally, she would attempt to put it in check before she accidently hurt someone. Surrounded by Romulans as she was, she had no qualms about hurting them. With the disrupter from the downed Romulan, she shot at the one behind Tom, only recognizing him as Lhaes after he collapsed.

The other two Romulans were too close to shoot. She dropped the disrupter to better use her hands and knife. B’Elanna shoved the first away from her, stepped aside to dodge the second’s punch, and landed a jab into the first’s ribcage. The squish of skin and blood reminded her what was at stake. If she did not win this fight, neither would Tom. She twisted the knife ruthlessly before shoving the Romulan away. He stumbled back toward the downed Romulan before collapsing.

In the scuffle, she swapped spots with the final Romulan so that she stood between him and Tom. It did not matter that the swap gave him access to the disrupters, she would not give him the chance. B’Elanna rushed at him, feinted to the left before driving her knife into the base of his neck near the aorta in humans. She had no idea if Romulans had a similar blood system, but the look of terror on the Romulan’s face served as answer enough. She withdrew the knife from his neck and stepped back, feeling disturbingly giddy and still focused from the adrenaline. The final Romulan clutched at his neck as he fell. His hands were limp by the time he hit the ground.

B’Elanna’s shoulders suddenly relaxed. She dropped the knife and turned to check Tom, kneeling beside him. She felt a transport engulf her. Then she realized it did not include Tom and felt her pulse race. She knew she was powerless to stop the transport and powerless to help Tom.

The transport brought her to the white room. Before she could complain, a shimmer formed and coalesced to Tom’s slumped body in front of her. She went about checking his pulse – normal; his breathing – slow but steady; his body – nothing apparently broken or twisted. Her own pulse settled somewhat.

The door opened to reveal the same reptile from before. The urge to remain silent came into effect as soon as the door opened. She resented it.

“You failed. We will return you to your ship now.”

The transporter wrapped around her first as she expected it too. She wished she could pull Tom with her but had to settle, grudgingly, for what she got. She was not expecting to appear on _Relativity_ with Tom.

“– both here, Captain Janeway. Ensign Paris appears unconscious.”

“ _Ensign Kim, get a lock on them._ ”

The transporter engulfed her and Tom. B’Elanna squeezed his hand in preparation of having to explain. Crewman Jarvis greeted her alone in the transporter room.

“Where’s Tom?”

“He’s been sent to Sickbay already. The Captain wants to speak with you first.”

B’Elanna stepped down from the transporter pad. “If she wants to speak with me, I’ll be in Sickbay.” She left before hearing Crewman Jarvis’ response. Several crew in the corridor looked surprised to see her. No one bothered her, perhaps because they saw she was alone. Part of her wanted to tell them all that Tom was alive – she did not like the accusing looks nor did she want the pitiful ones. Part of her wanted to move through _Voyager_ unseen until she reached Sickbay.

She took the fastest route to Sickbay. When she entered, Tom lay on the surgical bed with the Doctor assessing him by tricorder. She felt a surge of overwhelming déjà vu and had to stand still until it passed. There was no field around the surgical bay so she stepped inside to hold Tom’s hand in two of hers, pressing her lips to them.

She heard the click of the Doctor closing his tricorder. “He’ll be fine with a few days’ rest. I’d like to check you as well. Time travel can wreak havoc on the body.”

“Not now, Doctor.”

“It will be a few hours until he regains consciousness.”

“ _Not now_ ,” she looked at him to assert.


	29. I Think I Need a Doctor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Janeway asks B'Elanna about the mission with limited success.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: lonely, emergency room, reluctant bedrest

Sickbay had an empty, lonely feeling despite the presence of three people beyond herself. Kathryn observed the room to take in how her newly returned crew felt. B’Elanna had her hands clasped around one of Tom’s. She did not even have a chair. That surprised her. B’Elanna and Tom had some of the highest injury rates on _Voyager_. It was not something she actively tracked, but she always noticed when either her chief pilot or chief engineer were out of commission. Grabbing a chair was usually one of the first things either of them did when the other was injured. Clearly, what happened on Romulus deeply affected B’Elanna. Kathryn spotted the Doctor watching the couple from behind his desk. When she stepped into his office, he looked up at her.

“Yes Captain?”

She leaned against the desk out of the way, trying to appear casual. Although, he was a hologram, he did seem to experience emotions like many of her crew did. “How are they?”

“Ms. Torres wouldn’t let me close enough to scan her.” He sounded affronted, but then continued as if to reassure her. “I’m watching her from here. Not to worry.”

“Is Ensign Paris recovering?”

He nodded. “He’ll wake in a few hours. I’ll recommend he take time from duty. A few days will probably cover it. I’ll examine him again after he wakes and let you know for sure.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” She smiled and pushed away from the table. “I’ll tell Chakotay to schedule the next few days with that in mind after I’m finished here.” She left the Doctor’s office and stepped up to the edge of the surgical bay. “Lieutenant?”

B’Elanna turned to look at Kathryn. “Jarvis said you wanted to speak with me.”

Kathryn nodded and stepped into the surgical bay. “She told me to find you here.” The captain in her wanted to get to the point: what happened on the mission – the rest of her judged that jumping into that line of questioning would only shut B’Elanna down. She paused before asking, “How are you?”

“I feel fine.” B’Elanna answered. Kathryn gave her the space to continue. But she did not seem to want it.

“The Doctor says he’ll be awake in a few hours. He won’t have duty for the next few days and I’ll see to it that you have some time off as well.” She contemplated the best way to reveal that Ducane manipulated the simulation. Remembering B’Elanna’s response to her wanting time to think about a theory earlier, she decided now and to the point would be best even with Tom’s condition. “Ducane manipulated the simulation so that you and Tom would be successful.”

“Who figured out the simulation was altered?” She asked with more calm than Kathryn expected. She shook off the thought, hoping to dislodge her bias along with it. The B’Elanna of a few years ago would have responded with rancor; this was not the same B’Elanna.

“Lieutenant Commander Tuvok. I can share his report with you.”

“I don’t need it. I knew it was too easy. I should have checked.” B’Elanna sounded agitated.

“Would you like a chair?”

She looked up. “What? Oh. Yes.”

Kathryn retreated to bring two chairs. The Doctor, no doubt listening the whole time, brought one in for B’Elanna quickly while Kathryn leisurely found her own. When she returned, B’Elanna sat close to Tom with one hand still holding his and the other cupped around the top of his head. She had to admit, she was surprised to see their roles reversed. She had the memory of Tom holding B’Elanna similarly when the creature attached itself to her. She was glad for no major ethical dilemma this time around like there had been with Crell Moset. Ducane’s interference, though she resented it, was outside of her jurisdiction and, unfortunately, area of punishment.

She sat down just inside the surgical bay where she stood before. Kathryn asked, “B’Elanna, what happened?”

B’Elanna answered quietly without looking up from Tom. “Can this wait? It’s a long story.”

“Was the mission a success?”

“No.”

Kathryn felt tension release from her shoulders. She carried it without noticing. Despite the long journey ahead of them, she cared too much about her crew to forget them now. She stood up. “I want a full report by tomorrow afternoon.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Kathryn hesitated to leave, feeling once more like there was something else to be said. When nothing came to mind, she left.

* * *

B’Elanna never noticed how soft Tom’s hair was before now. She was almost embarrassed to admit it to herself. Had she really let it take this long before she fully appreciated it? Had she ever touched his hair outside of sex? She knew she had not. She felt awful.

All this time she worried if Tom would be the right person for her, she never thought to wonder if she was the right person for him. If she were truly a lousy match for him, she could not do that to him. He deserved better. It would not be right to leave now, but she will talk to him when everything settles.

B’Elanna hoped the Doctor’s several hours was an overestimate, but it turned out accurate. At some point, she succumbed to exhaustion and rested her head in her hands next to Tom. A gentle nudge on her head unbalanced her carefully constructed sleeping position enough to wake her up.

She met Tom’s eyes, remembered her promise to talk to him. Due to the bitter taste of that thought, she had to remind herself to smile. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he replied. He cleared his throat and spoke without any dryness, “How long was I out?”

“I fell asleep, but a few hours. I don’t remember when we got back.”

“Are you okay?” He pushed himself up to sit, legs stretched out long.

She nodded. “I didn’t get hurt.” She paused. The silence felt awkward for her. She wondered if Tom thought the same. “Thank you. For the warning.”

He smiled. “Of course.” He opened his arms. She stood and leaned in to hug him back. She heard him breathe in deeply before feeling him turn to place a kiss on her cheek. Her chest tightened at the affection, feeling out of place.

“Wonderful timing, Mr. Paris. I was just coming to check on you.” The Doctor’s presence prompted them to let go of each other. “How are you feeling? Any nausea, distorted vision, or dizziness?”

“Yes, no, and… no.” Tom responded as the Doctor scanned him with the tricorder.

“Perfectly normal after time travel and disrupter fire,” the Doctor concluded as he closed his tricorder. “I’ll be right back with an anti-nausea hypo.”

“Thanks, Doc. I’m feeling better already.” Tom moved his legs to the side of the bed, managing to put one on either side of B’Elanna before holding her waist. With him seated and her standing, B’Elanna found herself eye-level with him. “You fought off three Romulans to get to me. I’m impressed.”

“Four.” She grinned at the memory. Remembering her actions made her re-question her decision to talk to Tom. She let the whole idea fall back as she explained to Tom. “Lhaes came up behind you after you collapsed. I shot him with the same disrupter that hit you.”

He looked puzzled, “So we succeeded?” Then he whispered, “Our message?”

She shook her head. “After I got to you, the Aizae pulled us out to tell us that we failed.”

“Why? Aktuh’s group should have been able to capture him if he was unconscious.”

“With both of us gone, I don’t think they’d capture him.”

“So they’d kill him. The simulation was successful when Lhaes died.”

“Ducane altered the simulation without our knowledge.”

“Oh,” Tom concluded, looking thoughtful.

“Here you are Mr. Paris,” the Doctor returned holding a hypospray. He walked around behind Tom. “One anti-nausea hypospray.” The hypospray hissed when the Doctor pressed it to Tom’s neck. Tom reached up to rub the spot. “If you are feeling alright, I can release you. Please check in tomorrow, Mr. Paris. Until then, get plenty of rest.”

B’Elanna moved to let Tom stand. When he did, the Doctor turned to B’Elanna. “I need to scan you before you go.”

She shook her head, “After I walk Tom back.”

Tom put his arm around B’Elanna. “I’ll need her help getting back.” She knew Tom was feigning that he needed the support, but from the Doctor’s expression, she knew that the hologram could not tell.

“We have transporters for that sort of thing,” the Doctor suggested.

“I want to stretch my legs, Doc. I'll have to stay in bed for a while longer yet very soon.”

“A few more hours at least.” The Doctor turned away. “I won’t argue against exercise, even as I’m sure you had _plenty_ on Romulus.” B’Elanna started to walk with Tom when he leaned forward.

“I was just unconscious. I have too much energy now,” Tom argued as they stepped past the Doctor.

Once beyond the doors of Sickbay, Tom removed his arm from around her shoulders to hold her hand instead. “You want to walk me back hmm? Nice job coming up with that to escape the Doctor.”

“I’ll go back... eventually,” she laughed. It felt good to laugh. Her chest tightened. When her hand fell from Tom’s grasp she expected to hit the ground hard. Tom might have caught her or she might have blacked out before she hit the ground. She remembered hearing the memory of Tom’s voice tell her about Chapman’s nasty case of space sickness.


	30. Now Where Did That Come From?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> B'Elanna wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: empty, wound reveal, ignoring an injury, internal organ injury
> 
> I got them all again!

The bed felt like a Sickbay bed. It was then that B’Elanna felt something stringy on her left arm. She looked down at an IV taped there. Surprised, she attempted to push herself up to look around. Her muscles seemed barely up to the task. By the time she found a comfortable upright position, her whole body shook.

“Tom?”

“I’m here,” she heard him say just as he rounded the corner into her sight. He looked relieved to see her. “How are you feeling?”

Her stomachs rumbled and a sharp pain followed. “I’m hungry.” She put her hand on her abdomen to try pushing down the emptiness. “Starving actually.”

“The Doctor had to sedate you.”

“Sedate me? Since when is that the treatment for space sickness?”

“It’s not. You still had trauma from the holodeck injuries. We wanted to make sure you didn’t aggravate them further. Why hadn’t you said anything about your head bothering you still after the simulation?”

B’Elanna moved her legs to the side of the bed. It felt nearly impossible. She had to catch her breath. “I would have worried if it got worse. I didn’t collapse because of a _headache_.”

Tom stepped around to stop her from going any further. “No, but headaches are never a good thing. With all of the trauma to your abdomen and the physical activity on Romulus, the Doctor thinks a few weaker areas reopened.”

“Are they healed now?”

“Yes.”

“So I’m fine. I just need some food.”

He smiled. “Wait a moment. I’ll let the Doc know I’m going with you.”

She looked at him, finally connecting why he was in Sickbay, but had not been waiting for her. “Are you on duty?”

“I am.” He said as he stepped away.

“How long was I sedated?”

“A few days.”

“A few days?” B’Elanna felt cheated. Since seeing Tom wake up, she was looking forward to spending time with him. If he had to work, she missed that opportunity. She looked up when Tom returned. He offered her his help to stand. She took it and then stopped short of the surgical bay. “Maybe I should change first.” Her clothes still smelled like dirt and trees. She did not particularly want to talk to anyone else about Romulus. Wearing the same clothes would only invite questions. Not to mention, she wore them for a few days already while sedated.

“I forgot; I brought you clothes.” Tom left her side to retrieve the folded pile from the nearby chair. The Captain had used the same chair when Tom was on the bed. He handed her the pile. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want your uniform or something else…”

She felt her favorite blouse on the bottom and turned the pile upside down so the uniform was on the bottom. She smiled. “Thank you. I’ll change quickly.”

“Take your time,” he smiled. She returned it.

* * *

“Enter,” Kathryn acquiesced to the door of her ready room. Captain Ducane walked inside with Lieutenant Commander Tuvok. She nodded to her long-time friend and said, “Thank you. I’ll speak with Captain Ducane alone.” The Vulcan left.

Captain Ducane approached her desk. “I presume you wish to speak with me about my involvement?”

“Yes,” she answered. “Had I know about this, I would have shut down any attempt to prevent the Khitomer Massacre using my crew. I cannot punish you, nor do I know 31st century policy on the kind of interference you committed. However, I will remember this should you have occasion to ask something similar of my crew again. I will ask Lieutenant Commander Tuvok to submit his logs regarding the matter to _Relativity_.”

He nodded. “Understood.”

“I’d also like you to read Ensign Paris’ report on the mission.” She handed him the PADD from her desk. “I’m sure you will find it informative.”

“Thank you.” Captain Ducane took the offered PADD. “The _Relativity_ and I will be leaving by the end of tomorrow. I’ll return this before then.”

“See to it that you do, Captain. Dismissed.”

* * *

“Mess hall or quarters?” Tom asked when B’Elanna stepped out of the bathroom. He offered to take her clothes.

She handed the clothes to him as she answered, “Quarters.”

“Yours or mine?”

“Mine.” She said as she took his arm. Though she hid it well, he knew she still felt weak from her prolonged bedrest. He knew better than to draw attention to this. Instead, he pulled her closer as they headed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter will be up today!


	31. Today’s Special: Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> B'Elanna and Tom have a moving conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompts: kissed, comfort (alt 3)

“Sit down, I’ll grab us something,” Tom insisted when they got to B’Elanna’s quarters. She should complain. She already asked so much of him, but the walk exhausted her. She needed food and she needed sleep – in that order.

Succumbing to her desire to rest, B’Elanna nodded. “I’ll be at the table. You can use my replicator code though.”

“No need. I’ve been saving mine.” Tom planted a chaste kiss on her lips before moving purposely to her replicator.

She sat down, “Really?” Guilt crept up on her. “Tom, just use mine.” She insisted. “You don’t have to use your rations,” she trailed, unsure if this was the time; unsure if she even wanted to have this conversation; unsure which was the self-serving route she should avoid.

Tom stopped short of the replicator and faced her. “B’Elanna, what’s wrong?”

“Explain to me what’s happening here,” she added, “please.”

“I’m getting us dinner.”

“No. I know that.” She pursed her lips to think, but she was so hungry and tired, the thoughts had trouble forming. “Nevermind. Do whatever. I need to eat first at least.”

He looked at her skeptically. Then he said, “Okay.” He turned to the replicator. She heard him request two bowls of chicken noodle soup with his code. He set hers in front of her first before sitting in front of his. They ate silently. After the first bowl, she felt hungry enough to get herself another bowl. Tom read at on her couch while she ate. When she returned her bowl to the replicator, he set the PADD down and looked over at her.

“What’s bothering you?”

“We didn’t fix anything.” She said as she sat on the couch across from him.

“You’re upset about that?” He asked, sounding confused.

“A little.” She answered. She waited, still forming her thoughts. “ _We_ aren’t fixed. We’re still…we’re still how we are. I all but dragged you to Romulus and that could have killed you.”

“I don’t care that we’re ‘still how we are’. I like how we are.”

He seemed honest enough. She admitted. “I’m embarrassed about how I acted.”

“You thought _and_ I thought that saving all of those lives would be a good thing. We didn’t know that Ducane manipulated the simulation.”

“I _knew_ something was off about the simulation.”

He repeated, “We didn’t know. I don’t blame you. I _do_ blame Ducane and 31st century time regulations.” Tom shook his head. “I doubt he’ll get in trouble. When it was Braxton, _Relativity_ took him into custody immediately.”

After a moment, B’Elanna agreed, “You’re right. We didn’t know.” She slipped into his arms when he offered her a space. They lay lengthwise down the couch. She placed her hands on his. She hesitated to ask one more question that lingered. Finally, she said, “Are you sure you don’t want something else?”

“Do you still have the commbadge with the message?”

“Yes.”

“Play it.”

She played the message and listened. She was surprised she had not noticed the strain in Tom’s voice before, as if he were close to tears. “Oh.”

“You heard it this time, didn’t you?”

“How did I not hear that before?”

“I smiled at you. Remember?” He asked. She nodded and then felt him kiss the top of her head. “I had the chance to take down a group of Romulans near where you had your fight. Since you said another Romulan came behind me after I collapsed, I think one of those I heard had been Lhaes.” He paused. She waited for him to continue. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t risk losing you.” He sounded sad as he said it. “I know I told you I would help; I’m sorry I couldn’t.”

She brought his hands up to where she could kiss each of them. She lowered them before she spoke. As she did, he gave her a returning squeeze. “When I saw you fall, the only thing I could think of was protecting you. I think I stopped caring about the mission then. I only wish we had changed something.”

“If the Aizae are to be believed, we ended up with the second best option.”

She nodded. “We didn’t make anything worse.”

“Exactly. Plus, we _did_ change.”

She smiled, “We did, didn’t we.” They rested in comfortable silence for several moments before she yawned and realized how heavy her eyelids felt. “I’m ready for bed.”

“Get up, and we’ll go to bed,” he countered, yawning partway through so that he had to repeat himself for her to understand. She laughed as she stood. They got ready for bed. When they lay down, B’Elanna rested her head on Tom’s shoulder, using her pillow to soften it. She curled her arm up and around his head to touch his hair before they both drifted to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is done. :D


End file.
